#he is NOT mentally stable enough to be naked around another person

[lilnasxvevo]

Random thought that kind of nauseated me so I have to share it with you: If Jiang Cheng ever does dual cultivate with someone they’ll be like…having sex with Jiang Cheng but dual cultivating with Wei Wuxian’s core…don’t like that

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #118

(taken march 2nd; this is the last old survey i've got to upload! sorry for the spam, haha)

Do you want a cat or a dog more? I actually do want another cat, but Mom's not for it, mostly because she knows our landlord won't be.

Ever seen a kinkajou in real life? No, but I think they're SO cute.

Have you ever been crowned king or queen at a school dance? Nah.

Do you know anyone whose gender is non-binary? Multiple people.

Ever called someone a slut? I know I have totally playfully, and maybe - but I hope not - when I was younger and didn't know better.

Have any embarrassing pictures on Facebook? OH FOR SURE, I'm just too mortified of myself to go through and delete shit lmao

What type of tree do you see most of where you live? Pine. They're literally everywhere.

Is your mom mentally stable? I mean, she has depression, but she's not like... unstable. Although calling her "stable" feels inaccurate, too.

What was the last kind of snake you saw? She's a ball python, a champagne morph specifically.

Do you think you’d make a good parent? No, and it's the primary reason I don't think I'll ever have kids.

What’s your least favorite flavor of candy? It varies between grape, cherry, or orange, depending.

What shaped you most in your life as a person? I think maybe loss, in various forms. OH, or my depression.

Do you call your partner “baby?” Very rarely.

Does the last person you spoke to have any siblings? Yeah: Rob, Bill, and Kelly.

Have you ever seen the last person you hugged naked? Yes.

Do you have any limits on who you drink/eat after? Yeah, I'll pretty much only ever eat or drink after Girt 'cuz I mean, he's my boyfriend that I regularly kiss and stuff so it doesn't really matter. I'll very rarely eat or drink after Mom; it generally has to be a pretty desperate situation.

What is something in your life that you feel hopeful about right now? Mine and Girt's relationship is in a really good spot right now. I mean it's rare we're not doing well, but certain things have progressed or been expressed where things are just super good right now, and I feel very secure in this relationship, like it really is going to last. As I've said ten billion times, I will never allow myself to be 100% convinced that my relationship is permanent EVER again, but things are just great right now. I'm also feeling positive about having started physical therapy for my legs, and I'm being serious about it. And lastly, I'm very pleased with how dedicated I'm being with job hunting, and feel confident I CAN find SOMETHING I can manage.

Do you think flirting is cheating? Uh, YES????????????

Last place you fell asleep other than a bed? My sister's couch.

How many wives or husbands do you want? I'm monogamous so one.

Do you trust anyone? I could count on a single hand how many people I trust.

Does your significant other boss you around a lot? Good fucking LUCK catching me in a relationship where my s/o tells me what to do.

[TW: DRUG OVERDOSE] Do you know anyone who has overdosed? A tragic amount of people, including myself, but I'm very, very lucky and grateful that it was unsuccessful.

Are you in love with someone right now? Very, very much.

Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? Not one that was even remotely logical, but nevertheless I had a case where I worried.

Are you expected to help fix Thanksgiving dinner? No.

Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? Yes.

Do you feel guilty? If yes, why so? .......... WHY IS THIS SIMPLE QUESTION SENDING ME INTO A SPIRAL LOLOLOL SKIPPING

Has someone you cared about moved recently? My younger sister, actually. I'm so fucking proud of her, she's renting her own place all on her own now.

Have you ever gave someone a hand/blow job? Received one? Yes to all.

Are you hungry? Yeah honestly; I absolutely have not been eating enough since I got the severe pre-diabetes news. I've actually lost quite a few pounds very quickly, definitely more than what could just be natural fluctuations for me. I'm not starving, but I had a very small dinner of just salad and barely had anything else today, so...

Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? N/A

Do you have a lot of cousins? What are their names? Way, way more than I even know the names of. Off the very top of my head, there's Robby, Audrey, Brenna, and... holy fucking shit I'm already blanking lmfao I barely know my extended family, I'ma just be real.

Could you willingly live on a vegan diet? No, I would absolutely starve because of how absurdly picky I am, and fast. I'd love to be a vegan, but it is entirely unrealistic for me.

Do you have a hard time admitting you’re wrong? No, honestly. That's generally rather easy for me.

Name five objects that you don’t have but would like right now? New car for Mom, a new house for us, a new phone, bras that actually fit me properly, and a ball head tripod.

When you have children, would you like twins? Absofuckinglutely not, I can almost guarantee you that I would selectively abort one. I cannot IMAGINE a world where I could raise two babies at once even REMOTELY adequately.

Do you know any twins? If so, what are they called? Yeah, there was a Tyler and Taylor in my school. I also know a dance mom who never stops popping out babies because she lets "God" decide when she's had enough that has twin girls, but I don't remember their names.

When was the last time you went to the dentist? Literally just a few days ago, for a final cleaning before I get my wisdom teeth extraction scheduled...

Are you fingernails or toenails painted? What color/s? No; I never paint either.

What do you think your parents are doing? Mom is in her bed right now, so either watching TV or asleep. Dad is probably asleep.

What do you think your siblings are doing? I'm sure Ashley's being a mom of three, haha. Maybe the kids are asleep now? Idk when their bedtime is, or when she calls it a night either. I have no idea what Nicole's doing, but prooobably home? Her work schedule is very diverse, though.

What do you think your significant other/crush is doing? I can see via b.net that he's playing Diablo III right now.

What was the last gift you received? Girt got me a real big stuffed bear for Valentine's, lol. It sits on the chair in the corner of the room that's directly in my sight when I sit here at the desk.

When was the last time you saw rain? Literally today. This morning it was basically a monsoon, lol. The weather around here has been BONKERS, like it was 80 for a couple days not even a week ago, and now as we enter March, we're hearing that this is predicted to be the coldest March in NC history.

Would you rather wear a bracelet or a necklace? Necklace. I'd actually really like a necklace that I can always wear... but any I've ever had irritated my skin.

What season were you born in? Winter.

What is your favorite shade of green? I like seafoam green. Mossy green is great, too.

What is your favorite shade of blue? Sky blue, I think. Turquoise is also pretty, though.

Do you believe it's ever ok to cheat on a test? No. You're not doing yourself any favors if you don't ACTUALLY have that knowledge internalized.

What was the best part of your day today (or yesterday)? I think I did really well at PT today; I definitely pushed myself further than I felt like I was able. I was also very, very happy to see I'd lost weight. Girt and I had a good conversation earlier that made me feel very valued.

What year did you join Facebook? Apparently 2010.

What was the first color you ever dyed your hair? Uhhhh... maybe black, if we're talkin' full-head?

Who has hurt you the most? Jason.

When’s the last time you experienced a panic attack? Over what? Last week or whatever when I went to the gynecologist for the first time. I'm grateful they were patient with me, even with how uncooperative I was.

Have you ever used anything unusual to masturbate with before? If so, what? No, that's not really something I do without weird things anyway, it just doesn't do very much for me when it's Just Me lmao

Have you ever peed in the water at the beach? Uh no, that is a public location and is honestly disgusting.

Have you ever scored a winning goal for a team you played for? Definitely not that I remember; I feel like I would remember that.

Have you ever participated in LARPing? No, that would be WAY too awkward for me. I'm glad other people can have fun with it, but I would literally cry from discomfort and humiliation even if no one was judging me lmao.

Do you prefer “regular kissing” or French kissing? I mean that kinda depends on the mood, there are times where I don't want to go very far at all and others where I do.

Are you more likely to give a hickey to someone else or get one? Lately get lmfao even though for most of our relationship he didn't do those. I don't care if he does, so long it's not in an obnoxiously open spot. That did happen once (accidentally, to his credit) and my mom wanted to pass away because she noticed 😭

[itgirlification]

supermodel (2) | jjk

your story with jungkook never seems to end, yet you’re still worried about how it’s gonna end.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: TOXIC (i cannot stress this enough shit is hella toxic), yn is kinda (very) dumb, jungkook is an actual asshole, borderline mental abuse, infidelity, more insecuritiiiies, mentions/hints of sex, etc.

part one part three

There you were in his arms again, with only your panties and his shirt on.

At this point, you couldn’t even explain yourself. You were guilty, but you know what they say; love hurts.

With his arms wrapped around you and you clinging to him like that, you couldn’t care less about what was gonna happen next. You knew you were probably gonna have a mental breakdown when you go back to the dorms but for now, you were okay.

After he came over that night, he contacted you again. He said he didn’t want this to be serious, he wanted it to be a solely sexual relationship.

“You know, you’re the first girl I’ve been with, who seems to like getting hurt and degraded”, he sighs against your hair. “Sometimes I feel like you can’t get enough of it.”

You stayed silent. What were you supposed to do anyway? Tell him he’s right and stay like this for a while or react defensively and start an endless argument? You chose the first one.

“You’re the only woman that’d let me do all this stuff and still love me. Maybe that’s why I came back to you.”

Holding back the tears, you cling closer to his larger body, as if you were using him as some kind of shield. He thought you were an easy target and forgiving. What else would a man want from a woman he was only interested in fucking, a side piece? Even if she’s in love with him, she was gonna ignore that just to spend as much time with him as possible.

“It’s not like you actually came back.”, you responded, keeping your voice as stable as you could. “We’re just fucking.”

Jungkook sighed deeply, most likely noticing your petty undertone. “Don’t be like that. We aren’t fucking right now.”

You weren’t sure what point exactly he was trying to prove, you agreed to be his side chick. Did he think you didn’t know what a side chick was supposed to do? Because you did know, you just secretly thought you guys were meant to be, you weren’t just some side piece.

Looking around the motel room, your stomach began feeling weird. He wasn’t usually cheap, but you guessed he thought a side chick didn’t deserve a better environment than a cheap motel room rent for a night.

“Because we literally just did.”, you calmly said. You weren’t trying to piss him off.

But Jungkook wasn’t having it. Out of nowhere, he shoved you aside and put his hands over his face, noticeably frustrated.

“What happened?”, you weren't sure if asking that was the best option.

Jungkook turns his body to you. “What happened?? You keep on fucking me up and being a bitch about all this and you ask me what happened?”

He was so furious, his eyes were dark and his face was screwed up. You were now both standing, his tall figure towering over yours.

You saw his hand forming a fist and it would’ve been a lie if you said you weren’t terrified. He hasn’t touched you once throughout your relationship, but you never know.

“I didn’t even say anything. Maybe you’re just a little too sensitive.”, you were pouring salt on a wound at this point, but you didn’t want to be weak and let him talk to you like that.

“Me, sensitive?”, his tone was dangerously serene, as he leaned closer to your face. “If I wasn’t here with you, you'd probably still be crying over me. And you know where I’d be? Laying in bed with the beautiful model I have the privilege to call my girlfriend. Yn, I don’t need you. Don’t get bold with me, ‘cause we both know who’s gonna be heartbroken in the end.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes, what did you get yourself into again? This wasn’t Jungkook’s fault, this wasn’t anybody’s fault but yours. You should’ve never opened up, you should’ve never said yes to being his side piece, you should’ve never been his girlfriend, to begin with. You stayed silent, but your loud sniffs and your uneven breathing said more than you could at the moment.

“I’m leaving.”, he announced coldly before throwing his black leather jacket over his broad shoulders, leaving you half-naked, crying on the poor-quality motel bed you just had sex on. When he got out of the motel room, you looked outside of the small window, watching him leave in the car he drove you here with.

Now, you had no other option than to call Jane to pick you up since your dorm was a half an hour walk away from the motel and you didn’t have the energy to walk for even a minute.

You weren’t sure if you had the energy for all the questions Jane was gonna ask you when she sees your mascara smeared face and your messy hair. Not to mention the motel. You weren’t a motel type of girl and she knew that.

Still, you called her and she answered almost immediately. “Yn? What happened? I thought you were gonna sleepover at your parents’?”

Sleepover at your parents’ house? You had almost forgotten the bad lie you told Jane just to have sex with Jungkook in this cheap-ass motel. And to think you were convinced you two were gonna stay the whole night.

“Uh”, you quickly coughed to cover up the voice cracks you got from crying. “Yeah, it’s a long story, please pick me up. I’ll text you the address.”

About 10 minutes later, Jane arrived and looked at you like you were out of your mind when you got into the car. “Yn, what the fuck? I was so worried about you. And this isn’t your parents’ house, this is a fucking motel. Did you meet a guy? Did he do something to you? Should I call the cops?”

“No, no, no, oh my god, please don’t”, you knew she was gonna ask a lot of questions. “I lied to you. So what actually happened was me and Jungkook reconnected an-“

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was Jungkook. So I’m guessing he left you here?”

You hesitantly nodded.

“So when were you gonna tell me you ‘reconnected’ with him? When did you even ‘reconnect’ with him?”, she mockingly asked you. You weren’t blaming her for being pissed off, you’d have been too in this situation.

“A month ago? I think..”, you muttered.

“Hm”, Jane nodded, sighing at your naivety. “And when did he even break up with his model chick?”

You awkwardly looked away and Jane was hoping it wasn’t because of what she thought.

“He didn’t break up with her??”, Jane was beyond frustrated. “So.. you’re like his side chick now? Are we gonna stoop that low for men, yn?”

Jane always wanted the best for you and you knew she knew what was the best for you too, you were just too foolish. And too in love with a man you can’t force into loving you again.

“I know but please can we not talk about this right now? I just don’t feel like it.”, you asked, looking down on your fingers, ashamed of yourself.

“Alright, I’m sorry, babe.”, Jane hugged your side quickly, before starting the engine and heading back to the dorm. “You know I just want what’s best for you.”

You nodded, looking out of the window with your head full.

_

“Bella just texted me and said her birthday party will be 90s themed? Can’t she be a little more specific?”, Jane barged into the room, looking down on her phone in disbelief.

Bella was a person you two met at college in one of your shared classes. She was a sweetheart, but she was a little spoiled too. The only reason why she got into the college was that her rich daddy bribed them, but you couldn’t be mad, your parents would’ve done the same if they had the money.

She was extremely extroverted, a people person. She probably never had a boring day in her life with all the parties she threw whenever her dad and his 20 something-year-old girlfriend were on vacation or business trips. She even had some celebrity friends and would just casually post selfies with them on her Instagram story like it was a normal thing to do. She was basically living the dream, clueless about what real life for others really was about.

Jane had a love-hate relationship with Bella ever since they met. She thought Bella was a nice girl, but it was ‘unbearable’ to have a conversation with her because she was too self-centered to talk about anything else than herself.

You shrugged. “Just wear something Aaliyah would’ve worn.”

“Hm. Fair enough. It’s really not all that deep, actually.”, She said. “So what are you gonna wear?”

“I don’t even know if I’m going, Bella’s parties are boring.”, you answered honestly.

You really weren’t sure if you’d go. You did feel like seeing people and having a little fun but it wasn’t like you ever had fun at any of Bella’s parties. One time, a guy puked all over a new dress you bought just for the party, and another time, you were forced to drink 4 beer bottles. You hated beer.

“Why not? It’s gonna be fun and you’re coming.”, she decided for you, making you playfully roll your eyes. “And wear that black latex dress, I haven’t seen it on you in forever.”

To say that Jane was a fashionista would be an understatement. She was too invested in fashion to be bothered with anything else.

“Alright, but only if we don’t stay for long.”, you tried to compromise with her.

She nodded. “We gotta buy her presents though. Is there even anything she doesn’t have?”

You sighed, annoyed. “C’mon, there’s gonna be at least 200 people at that party, it’s not like she’ll notice if we just don’t get her anything. Besides, she’s rich as fuck.”

Jane snickered at your comment. “Girl, you must not know her, she checks every damn person and probably throws them out if they don’t buy her a Chanel bag or something. Bitch is a little crazy.”

It was amusing because you both knew that was exaggerated. Bella wasn't that serious about gifts. But let’s just say, for the money that her dad had, she was a little too greedy.

But you were too bothered with your own life than to worry about other's.

_

As soon as you arrived at Bella’s mansion, two security guards were standing in front of the door. They let you in as you showed them your invitations. It was a little bit extra, but that’s just how Bella was.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the house was the smell of sweat and weed. Already? You weren’t really surprised though.

Bella was standing there, wearing a skintight red dress that, ironically, didn’t really fit her own party’s theme. But she did look absolutely beautiful greeting her guests with the biggest smile on her glowing face. She had her strawberry blonde hair down in elegant beach curls and there were some cute butterfly clips placed in them.

You could recognize that it was her birthday from miles away. She was basically shining.

“Oh my god, Jane, Yn!! I’m so happy to see you guys!”, an overly keen Bella came, hugging you both with strength. “Oh, I see you got me something, girls you know you shouldn’t have!”

She tried hiding her smile at the bags in your hands, freeing the two of you from them immediately.

“It’s your birthday, Bella. We can’t just come here without any gifts, girl.”, Jane smiled. “Happy birthday.”

You looked to your side, admiring Jane’s acting skills. “Happy birthday, Bella! I can’t believe you’re 23 now.”

“I know right, if you were a year younger, you’d be as old as your dad’s girlfriend.”, Jane joked around, making Bella hysterically laugh.

“C’mon, almost everybody’s here already”, Bella excitedly pushed you towards the living room.

The room’s stench was even more unbearable than the one at the entrance, leaving you covering your nose for a second leaving out an ‘oof’.

The 90s trap music was heard extremely loudly through the whole house and there were people dancing and grinding. There were some couples that sat on one of the many couches, acting like they were in their own little world. It wasn’t very pleasant to watch, but you just chose to ignore it. The stench was something you couldn’t ignore though.

You were already bored out of your mind.

A few minutes of pure boredom and dry conversations passed then the music stopped playing and you could hear Bella’s voice calling for everybody’s attention. “I’m gonna open the presents now, so everybody come here and Daphne, please bring the gifts here so I can open them.”

Daphne was Bella’s personal maid. She never really talked, but she did everything she needed to. She brought all the bags to Bella one by one and you could’ve sworn she was trying not to cry out of happiness.

“Oh my god, Jackson”, She cried out as she pulled a pair of Saint Laurent shoes out of a box. “These are so beautiful. You even got the right size. Thank you so mu-“

“Bella, I’m so sorry we’re late, we had to run some errands”, a soft-spoken voice interrupted, making everybody in the room turn her way, just to see the charming model with none other than Jeon Jungkook by her side. Wow.

As soon as you turned your head to see who it was, you turned back around, looking at Jane to make sure she saw what you saw. You sent her a questioning, almost panicking look just for her to shrug.

“Yuki! It’s fine, girl. Come here, I’m opening my presents right now.”, The birthday girl exclaimed, making Yuki immediately hand her her gift.

Jungkook was just walking behind his girlfriend, making no type of noise whatsoever and you prayed he wouldn’t see you.

They sat down at an angle where you couldn’t help but look at them though and you were sure he looked at you for a split second as well. They looked beautiful together.

Bella just continued opening gifts and thanking everybody dearly, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You just zoned out for most of it. Those were a lot of gifts she got.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance at your ex-boyfriend and the girl besides him.

She looked even cuter in real life. Her cheeks had a natural blush to them and her hair was long and healthy. She was thin and her skin tone was warm and even.

You’ve always been insecure about your hyperpigmentation, but she didn’t seem to have any problems with how she looked. She was near damn perfect. Perfect wasn’t real, but if it was, it’d be her.

Jungkook probably never had a problem introducing her to his parents or his friends. You always felt like he had difficulties with that while he was dating you. He just wasn’t confrontational enough to tell you he was ashamed to have you as his girlfriend.

You seemed to be stuck in your place while everybody else was either dancing or making conversation.

Jane was sitting next to you, talking to a girl with blond box braids about a new movie that recently came out. You heard what they were saying, but it sounded like a foreign language to you since you weren’t focused.

“Yn? Are you okay?”, Jane whispered in your ear, hugging your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were invited.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jane. It’s not your fault, I just kind of wanna go home.”

She looked at you apologetically. “Can’t we stay for a little while? I promise it won’t take long, I’m just actually having fun here.”

You had to admit you were being selfish, not just in that moment, but whenever it came to Jungkook. You’ve dragged Jane through all of your shit and never really thought about how she must feel like.

Nodding in response to her. “I’m gonna get myself something to drink.”

You finally stood up from your place, looking around unsure, feeling like you’re taking up so much space wherever you go, even when you were doing absolutely nothing.

You wore the latex dress, but only because Jane insisted and made sure you knew you looked good. She convinced you for maybe a second, but all those insecurities were coming back. You tried sucking in your stomach the whole night, but it just wasn’t enough.

You were asking yourself all kinds of questions. If your arms looked too fat and if your cellulite was visible, if your hip-dips were as noticeable to others as they were to you. You felt like everybody was looking and they were judging really hard.

All you wanted was to fade into oblivion.

You were feeling his eyes on your back and god, you wanted to look too but you fought the urge, just continued walking to the bathroom. You weren’t in the mood to drink after all.

Your gut feeling was telling you he was following, but you ignored it.

Until you were about to close the bathroom door and you saw black timberlands stepping between the door and the doorframe to stop you from closing it.

You sighed, opening the door, resulting in him getting in the bathroom with you.

“Why are you avoiding me?”, the handsome man facing you asked, brown eyes looking deep inside of yours.

“How can I avoid you when you didn’t even try talking to me?”, you asked back, looking away immediately.

You hated how your relationship was just a cycle of him hurting you and coming back, acting like he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he was so good at it too.

He chuckled darkly, letting his eyes glide down your body for a second just to look back into your eyes. “You know exactly what I mean, yn. Don’t play dumb.”

You did know what he meant.

“And? It’s not like I have anything to say to you.”

Jungkook came closer to you, softly wrapping one arm around your waist, whispering in your ear. “You don’t?”

You couldn’t believe how shameless he was, being so close to you while his girlfriend was a few meters away, outside of this door, probably thinking he’s getting her a drink or something. You wondered if he did the same thing to you when you were dating.

“Jungkook, stop. Your girlfriend is here.”, you tried to convince yourself you didn’t want it. “How can you even do this?”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before, princess.”, He kissed your earlobe. “You can’t possibly think it’s okay when she’s not around, but not okay when she is. It’s the same thing.”

You knew he was right, besides, you were just as guilty as he was. You were messing around with a taken guy and the worst part was, you knew he was taken and you still did it.

“I know, but I wanna end whatever this is”, you hesitated to say. “It’s unhealthy and you already have a girlfriend, why don’t you go and kiss her, why me?”

You were avoiding this conversation ever since this started. Sometimes it’s hard talking about things you don’t actually want to hear about.

“What do you mean?”, Jungkook feigned confusion, but you knew better than to believe him. “It’s easier said than done, yn. We have a history together, you know that.”

“I do, but that’s all we are. History. And we should both get over it.”, you responded.

“But what if I don’t want to?”, it was more of a statement than a question, really. “What if I told you, you’re special to me?”

You were gonna have a meltdown if he continued with this. Why was he so fucking complicated? You knew he didn’t love you so what was it?

“But I’m not. The only reason why you come back is because you think I’m easy material. It’s because you were my first everything and it’s because you know exactly how much you mean to me.”, you cry out, tears coming up to ruin your makeup again. You wished you wouldn’t cry as much as you did. “You know I’ll always let you in, no matter what. I know I’m at fault too here and I’m not blaming you, but please for god’s sake, don’t make it worse on me.”

You looked in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. You felt detached from reality, but not in a good way at all.

Jungkook scoffed, looking down at you. “I know I shouldn’t have tried talking to you. It’s like you can’t even appreciate anybody showing you affection. I’m trying to prove to you, that you aren’t nothing to me and that’s the response that I get. Not everybody’s against you, yn, you’re just too insecure to notice. That’s why you haven’t ever had anybody showing you interest. It’s because you lack confidence and think the world revolves around you. But I did show you interest. In the past and now. But look at you. You haven’t changed at all, still the little yn who compares herself to other girls and thrives off of male attention, because you can’t believe that somebody could love you just for you when there’s skinnier, prettier girls walking around. So what if there are skinnier, prettier girls around? That’s reality, yn.”

You didn’t know what exactly you expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. Looking at him with big, teary eyes, is that really what he thought of you? Of course, it was. Because it was the truth. The cold, hard truth. Not sugarcoated. He knew you better than you wanted him to.

Without a single word leaving your dry lips, you open the door and run out, ignoring him calling your name and the weird stares people were giving you. You needed to find Jane.

Once you found her joking around with a bunch of random people, you go up to her. You most likely looked like you came out of a horror movie.

“Yn? What the fuck happened?”, she lightly took your face in her warm hands and caressed your cheek worriedly.

“Pl- please, can we just go home?”, you whimpered, thankful that everybody was respectful enough to turn around and focus on their stuff instead of ogling at you.

“Sure, sure. Come here”, she took you in her arms and walked you out of the mansion, not caring to say goodbye to anybody.

_

people who wanted to get tagged in pt. 2:

@1-in-abillion @sarcasmflowsinmyveins @chieftoadturkeynickel @madygswich @kb-bangtanenthusiast

thank you for the support love yall!! 💗

a/n: so i know most of yall probably wanted a happy ending but first of all this probably isn’t the ending:) and i wanted to portray it as realistically as possible. It’s really hard to get out of a toxic relationship especially when you’re so in love with them but i’ll see what i can do to make yn happy cuz girly’s going thru it. Btw this wasn’t proofread so there’s probably so many mistakes and i thought this was very underwhelming but i hope you guys like it thank you!

[sl-walker]

All right, since I’m in the middle of a flare and have to work manual labor for the next four days despite it, I figured I would make myself -- and hopefully other people -- laugh by talking about one of my favorite OG Captain Marvel stories. Namely, from Whiz #50, with a cover date of January, 1944, meaning it was probably produced sometime in late 1943.

I want to share it because why not, this is some absurdly charming stuff.

I’ll get more into why it’s one of my favorites as we go, in the form of running commentary. So, full story (with said commentary) under the cut. If you wanna just read the story without my commentary, stick to the pictures. XD

First, let me say that the cover and splash page definitely live up to the story, though the cover’s a bit more sensationalized. But the premise is pretty damn simple: Our intrepid hero and his newsboy alter ego are on vacation. Cap decides to go swimming. It goes hilariously wrong and thus ensues a bit of a madcap adventure, no puns intended.

Second, the fact that Cap and Billy are depicted as essentially different entities makes what Billy does next the ultimate trolling:

Gee, airing out the stolen laundry on the radio? Really? I’ll leave it up to you, gentle reader, whether Billy actually was trolling his own alter-ego for ratings or whether he was just innocently sharing the story while his other-self winced quietly in whatever ether-space he exists in when not front-and-center.

Either way, I love it.

Continuing on...

I get a kick out of the fact that Billy’s monologue is that he’s no dare-devil. One, because that’s so obviously not true in any way -- (that kid is awesomely, sometimes recklessly brave on the regular even without Cap) -- but two, because the bridge is actually named Dare-Devil Bridge. We aren’t given any reason why this dangerous potential death-trap is there, hanging without so much as a gate or a warning sign or anything, because we don’t need one. It’s there specifically for what happens next.

Which, of course, is Billy calling in Captain Marvel, who does some light complaining about the situation Billy left him in. There’s no bite to it, which I find adorable -- Cap actually does get frustrated once or twice in other issues with Billy calling on him for mundane stuff, though he’s never mean about it -- but there is a bit of the sense of being put-upon there that’s just-- I dunno, cute. It’s something I miss a lot in the various post-crisis takes on the character: That duality, that difference in personality, and the way each of them responds to different situations. Often, they’re on the same page, but notably, sometimes, they aren’t.

Someday, I promise, I need to sit down and write how I think that works between those two without being a truly frightening mental illness manifested, what with them being the same person but not the same person. Because I have so many ideas, and I’ve only had since the early-2000s to percolate them. LOL! But until then, just enjoy this.

Here is another reason why I love the Golden Age Captain Marvel books and why I love this specific story: This is an absolutely normal, mundane thing to do. It’s the human thing to do. These aren’t the actions of some super-serious superdude. These are the actions of a pretty shockingly normal guy doing something mundane. And a whole story is built around that normalcy.

It’s cute. It’s funny. It’s the reader already knowing that he’s getting himself into a situation that he absolutely could have avoided, but also completely understanding how it happened anyway. It’s pretty brilliant writing: I say this as a pretty damned good writer myself.

So much of the reason why, I think, Cap was so endearing as a hero is that humanity. He’s got pretty much god-tier power in the Golden Age, once his powerset is established. He’s utterly invulnerable to all physical harm while powered up. But-- he’s human. He knows he’s human. He acts like it, and decides, “You know what? I’m going skinny-dipping.”

He and Billy are both characters it’s so easy to empathize with.

Also, a reminder that the art under Chief Artist C.C. Beck is really, really good. (He had a whole stable of artists to help produce this stuff!) Ignoring registration issues on the printing press, the actual line art is amazingly good; proportion and perspective and consistency.

But anyway--Cap does get to enjoy his swim. But, then, oh no.

I love the idea of a world where the prime hero -- and he definitely is in that world -- can take off his suit and go swimming, and where someone else is bold enough to steal the damn suit off of him. The first time I read this, I started laughing here. Not at him, but at the situation he’s found himself in. At the idea that some random passer-by saw Captain Marvel’s costume and went yoink!

Another thing I love about this particular story is how much Cap and Billy have to work together, just by necessity. Like-- it’s just really good. But anyway, thank everything Billy Batson is on the ball, coming to the rescue.

Sheer bad luck via the weather keeps this story rolling along in hilarious misdirections. Realistically, that uniform probably wouldn’t be all buttoned together (we see Cap take off pieces of it aside the pants in other issues, including socks!), but who cares? The point of the story is that giant bear rug on the floor’s gonna get put to use.

Man, when have you ever seen Superman creeping naked through some stranger’s house wearing nothing but a random polar bear because he went skinny dipping? No wonder these comics sold so well. This next panel is when I start wheezing, though, and pretty much keep wheezing.

“A lady, too! I’ve got to get away from here!”

I’m dying at this point. That’s such a characteristic response, and yet, I think that’s why it’s funny.

Anyway, because this is an excellent story (I mean this without an ounce of irony, too), our dynamic duo stumbles across a plot in play to rob the hotel they’re staying at.

Here’s a big part of why this is such a good tale: Everything fits. Even when it isn’t explained, like Dare-Devil Bridge, it still fits. Why is the tree down? Because there was just a thunder storm, the same one that blew Cap’s suit into the room with the gangsters.

I don’t know if this is Otto Binder’s story, but I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. It’s a complete story told in relatively few pages that accomplishes everything it’s meant to.

Anyway, using foliage as cover, Cap gets to be heroic----then Billy gets to get back to the business of trying to stop the robbery of the hotel and get his heroic alter-ego dressed again.  Which leads to a rather adorable and funny scene of Billy not only trying to describe what Captain Marvel wears, but what size it would need to be tailored in.

(Cap is supposedly a 44 for a suit coat, we find in some earlier appearance, which would refer to his chest size.  So, an XL for shirts and suit-coats.  He’s a big guy, but he’s actually not a hulking huge guy.  But more on that later.)

I love the fact Billy tries to like-- use himself as a model.  Maybe in another ten years, kiddo.  Billy’s actually pretty buff for like a 12-14 year old, he’s not a scrawny kid at this point, but yeah, no.  LOL!

Another thing I also really, really love about this style, though, is that they draw Captain Marvel as being strong, as having a powerful build-- but not as a dehydrated body-builder with deep cuts. He’s got human proportions, regardless of his strength; he’s got a human build, not a superhuman one.

C.C. Beck had a lot of things to say about superheroes who were just muscles on top of muscles, all clearly defined, and he didn’t like it.  As someone who first got into comics in the early 90s with Jim Lee’s X-Men--

I do get Beck’s point.  I not only get it, but I really highly approve of it.  He maintained to the end that he drew (and oversaw) the Marvel family to look like high school and college athletes, and I can see that.  I think the one person who’s gotten it right in the modern era is Evan “Doc” Shaner, who did Convergence: Shazam!  He not only nailed that strong-but-not-hulking build for Cap, but also how young he looked.  College-age, in fact.

But anyway, enough digression into art and why I like this better than most modern takes on the character.  Also, that’s just a cute set of panels.

I also like that there wasn’t an easy fix there.  Cap’s still in his not-birthday suit, and Billy’s still stuck running around trying to solve the issues at hand.  Next comes some other really good panels:

-snorts-  He’s locked in.  Yeah, that’ll hold him.

Anyway, what I really liked here was again that tandem working; Billy can’t punch through a wall, but Cap can.  Cap can’t crawl out while he’s au natural -- well, he could, but he’d probably rather die first -- but Billy’s got no such issue.  It’s just fun when you get to see them doing something like that.  You have to really think for a minute about the trust each of them must have in their alter-ego.

ANYWAY, we get the rare treat then--

--of Captain Marvel not only yoinking a dude into a dark room, but then stealing his clothes.  Except, not his underwear.  Because that’s nasty.  LOL!

I love that in this series, you do actually get to see him wear other stuff.  Go incognito.  Get his red suit messed up enough to take it to a dry cleaner’s, wherein he ends up dressed like a musketeer after.  Jerry Ordway’s series is, I think, the only other time we see Cap not wearing his famous suit, but it happened enough in the Golden Age that it wasn’t a shock.

Like, I hate to be the one to say this, but I do think DC drops the ball often on just how much you can do with Captain Marvel (or Shazam, depending on timeline, but that’s the wizard’s name to me so mostly I’ll stick with the original name) if you unbend enough to.  It’s not just the costume change, or the duality of him and Billy being the same but not, but also his inherent, essential humanity.

But I am digressing again, sorry. XD  I just feel strongly enough about these versions of these characters to spend hours writing this.

Anyway, only a single panel later:

And that’s that!  Billy Batson has just outed his own alter-ego’s most embarrassing moment to whomever’s listening to WHIZ radio -- thank everything podcasts and the internet weren’t available then, ha! -- and we get to see a recounting of a very fun story.

Like I said earlier, I love this one for its essential humanity.  The hero got himself into this mess, he and Billy got him out of this mess, and stopping the criminals was actually just kind of a lucky stroke thrown in there.  But even though Cap got himself into this, the story never treats him like he’s stupid.  It never treats him like he’s some kind of idiot.  You’re laughing, but-- not in a mean way.

I love how human it is.  How complete it is.  How genuinely funny it is.  It’s a thousand times more funny when you genuinely love and respect Captain Marvel and Billy Batson, too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this dissertation on a skinny-dipping hero.  LOL!  I enjoyed sharing it with you.

[inlovewiththefictionalcharacters]

COERCION AND HAVEN

Chapter - 7 : FOR ONCE

Pairing: (dark) Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning(s):  MCU spoilers; Slowburn;  Stalking; Obsession; Non - con; Dubious content; Kidnapping; Sexual themes; Strictly 18+; Somnophilia; Manipulation; Any more required warnings will be added in the upcoming chapters.

*****

Series Masterlist

*****

She’s dying. Scratch that. She’s almost dead. There’s this pounding in her head that was intolerable. It was unbearable. She groaned when she opened her eyes. The room was too bright when she opened her eyes, making her close them again and groan. Heaving out a huff, she rolled to her side with great difficulty and incoordination. But doing that made pain shoot up her body from her right ankle making her whimper loudly, her eyes now wide open. Not putting pressure on her right side, she slowly sat up, leaning against the headboard. The fluffy comforter now covering her from her waist down. 

She looked down at her hands, but her eyes landed on what she’s wearing. A plain shirt that was big for her, which was also definitely not hers. Her head immediately shot up, taking in her surroundings. She was definitely not in her house and that didn’t settle well with her. That was not her apartment and those were not her clothes. She immediately swiped the comforter off of her, to her side, revealing her lower body. She was not wearing anything but that plain white t-shirt and her panties and her ankle was wrapped in a compression bandage. 

What the fuck happened to me? She thought. 

She climbed off the bed and as soon as she did that, her right ankle screamed pain.  

She let out a whimper again and slowly made her way towards the nearby window which was to the side of the bed, a few feet away from it. The room she was in was massive and she limped towards the window, trying her best not to put any pressure on her right leg. 

Looking out of the window, she frowned seeing nothing but what appears to be a lake and then a lot of trees on the hillside spread before her. It appears as if the house she’s in had no neighbors for miles and miles to go. 

Just then, the door of the bedroom opened, making her whip her head at that direction. 

*****

To say that Steve was not exhausted with everything that happened would be the understatement of the decade. First, he brought his girl to their house, planning to keep her there. He knew he would have to trick and persuade her to be there and once they both are settled and she’s “ready” to meet the outside world with, they’ll do it together. Next the headache he got from Bucky and Natasha after they learnt that he beat the crap out of that asshole who was forcing himself on someone who is definitely “taken”. After the asshole collapsed, borderline died after Steve beat the crap out of him while his girl was getting the drugs flushed out of her system, thanks to Bruce.

Naturally, the whole gang found out from Steve and Tony about who Y/N was and what were Steve’s intentions for her when they rushed her into the compound while dragging that insult of a man along with them. They were reluctant at first, but with a lot of persuasion from Tony and Steve himself, Nat was the first one to cave in. Steve deserved to be happy. All of them do. And if Steve’s happiness is relied on Y/N, then so be it. That’s what Nat told them. Wanda was the first one who said that she likes Y/N, having spent the time with an unconscious Y/N while Bruce worked on the overdose. Yeah, the asshole that Steve found with Y/N, outside the bar slightly overdosed her.

That lead to another round of Steve beating the crap out of the already unconscious guy. Bucky and Sam had to hold Steve back from killing him. Thankfully, Bruce then announced that he was able to flush out the drugs from Y/N’s system and she is stable. But he insisted on keeping her under observation for the night, just in case and Steve spent every minute with her. 

The following morning he took drove an unconscious Y/N to his - their house. When they reached the place, Steve carried her upstairs into their room and mentally thanked Tony for keeping everything ready and later verbally thanked him through a phone call.

But not before changing her clothes. Oh, that was the fun part. He was quick to get rid of the dress off of her body but kept it as a sentiment rather than ripping it off of her. The black sequined mini dress though covered her modestly, hugged her in all the right places.

But when he removed her dress - gosh- he was in for a treat. Though he had seen her naked, multiple times before through the cams he has installed in her flat, he wasn’t ready for what he saw in person. 

Steve Rogers had been with women before. But he wasn’t prepared for the beauty that was Y/N. His eyes darkened as he eyed the subtle rise and fall of her chest. His hand lifted without his own accord and he traced the side of her breast with his knuckle. He then gently gripped the breast, palming and caressing it gently while he leaned towards her face and kissed her softly.

Her lips were soft against his own and one kiss was not enough for him. He kissed her again and again and again. When he finally stopped kissing her, he gazed at her lovingly and trailed his hand down her chest to her soft stomach. 

His hand trailed further down and he cupped her clothed pussy. The white cotton panties working as a barrier between her warm folds and the heat of his hand. His finger rubbing circles on her covered folds and there was a shift in her breathing, making him smile and kiss her cheek. He crawled down her body till he was looking directly at her womanhood which was covered of course. He then ran his nose through it, breathing in the scent of her and suddenly jerked himself away from her and climbed off the bed, standing up.

As much as he wanted to take her right then, he’d rather do that when she’s awake. With that, he quickly dressed her in one of his shirts and walked out of the room, with his phone in hand to talk to Tony.

*****

The door opened slowly and Y/N didn’t know how she should feel when she saw Steve walking inside. Last time she saw him, he told her that he was going on a mission and might take a few days to return. But she had no recollection of seeing him after that. The last memory she had was going out with one of her old college friend to the club as a “girls’ night”, who then ditched her when she met a guy, leaving Y/N to fend for herself and leave the club. Events that happened after that are blurry and confusing.

Steve smiled seeing her standing by the window.

“Oh, you’re awake doll. Thought you wouldn’t wake up for a few more hours or so” he said.

She turned around completely to face him with a frown etched on her face.

“Steve...” she trailed off.

“What- where...?” she said, having no idea of what to ask.

Noticing that she was hyperventilating, he was quick to walk towards her. He cupped her face with his palms, making her look at him.

“Ssh doll. Deep breaths. Deep breaths doll” he told her softly. 

She slowly complied, her breathing slowly going back to normal.

Looking at him. she slowly asked “What happened Steve?”

Looking down at her, he tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and asked “What’s the last thing you remember?”

She thought about it. Really thought about it, but then she reached a block, making her freak out which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He was quick to pull her out of it.

“Don’t freak out doll. Just tell me what you remember” he told her, his hands holding her arms.

“I... went out with a friend from college.... To a club... She then went off with this guy after we had some drinks. I think I didn’t feel well and didn’t want to stay there anymore and left the club... I don’t remember what happened after that.....” she said, looking at his face.

Steve nodded his head.

“That asshole must have spiked your drinks. I came back from the mission and was in the area when I heard something and when I went there, he had you cornered outside the club, in an alley near it. You sprained your ankle and fainted in my arms. We have that asshole with us now. He’s under investigation. You on the other hand were....” he trailed off with a sigh.

“He overdosed you, that prick. Thankfully, Banner was able to flush the drugs out of your system and said that you might experience some memory loss. Headaches and all that is common but you’ll be fine in a few hours. The sprain might take a week or more to heal. You shouldn’t strain yourself. Banner said that you should take complete rest till your ankle heals” Steve told her.

Y/N was silent for a moment, processing what he said. She then looked down at what she’s wearing and frowned. Steve immediately caught onto it while she tugged the hem of the shirt down, trying to be as modest as possible. Oh, he don’t mind. He’d rather she didn’t wear anything, but he can take it slow.

“Your dress was.... Nat thought you wouldn’t be comfortable in that. She changed it for you. You were unconscious” He lied.

She stayed silent. Not everyone gets her dress changed by Black Widow. Oh well. At least it’s not Steve or some other man is what she thought.

“Where are we?” she said looking at him and at their surroundings.

“My house. I thought you’d be overwhelmed if I left you in the tower, so I brought you here with me. Plus, you’ll be able to take some more rest here, rather than being anywhere else” Steve told her.

“Steve, I can’t- I can’t just stay here. I-it’s not okay. I can’t. I have a job Steve. Two jobs. I can’t just stay here and rest. I don’t want to impose on you” she rambled.

“Doll, really, I don’t mind having you here” he told her, but she wasn’t listening.

“No Steve! I can’t, it’s just not okay. I’ll lose my jobs!” she started getting frantic, looking around freaking out.

She couldn’t pay the bills, can’t provide herself, wouldn’t have a roof over her head if she’s jobless.

Steve sighed and grabbed her arms, pulling her into him, wrapping an arm around her waist while the other was on the back of her head. The sudden movement made her eyes wide in alert, but made her quiet. Her head over his chest, listening to the soft thuds of his heart while she froze in his arms.

“You’re going to be fine, doll. You won’t be losing your jobs. I’ll speak to your managers, or bosses or whoever they are. You’re gonna be fine. It’s important to take care of yourself first. And you’re not imposing yourself on me. I like having you around. I know you’ve been taking care of yourself since a long time. For once, let me take care of you. I know this might feel strange for you after looking out for yourself for so long, but for once let me take care of you. Everything’s going to be just fine. You’re gonna be okay” Steve told her softly, cooing at her, gently caressing her back and the back of her head while she swallowed down the lump in her throat that she didn’t know had been there.

Tears pooled in her eyes, but they didn’t leave her eyes. She nodded slowly, closing her eyes.

“Okay” her whisper was low.

And  all the while, Steve kept caressing the back of her head and her back. Steve was sure of one thing though. He was never letting her go. Never.

[chicgeekgirl89]

The Way Our Horizons Meet: Chapter 4

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes

Summary: Carlos' perspective through the aftermath of T.K.'s shooting. Follows the events of episodes 1x08-1x10.

A/N: I had a few requests to write T.K. and Carlos’ conversation about what happened in New York. Hopefully I did it justice!

CW: Mentions of past drug use, overdosing, suicide (just mentioned, not attempted)

Read Chapters 1-3 on AO3

Carlos woke slowly in the morning. Sunlight streamed in through the curtains and he frowned trying to get his bearings; usually he was up before the sun, even on his days off. He liked to get a workout in early, before the day had really started. He shifted in the bed, wincing when he realized his left arm was full of pins and needles.

Blinking his eyes open fully he came face to face with T.K.’s sleeping form. Carlos’ mouth slowly curved into a smile. It had been a long time since he’d woken up to someone else in his bed. Even longer since it had been someone he really cared about. 

Carlos watched him for a moment, just taking it all in. T.K. was lying on his back, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling slowly. Last night had been…perfect, was the word that came to mind. There had been nothing between them anymore, nothing standing in the way of their feelings for one another, and they had spent many hours making that clear.

His arm was trapped underneath T.K.’s pillow, hence the numbness running all the way up to his shoulder. He didn’t want to wake his sleeping boyfriend (wow it felt good to call him that), but his arm was starting to tingle painfully. Slowly he attempted to ease it out from under T.K.’s head. Despited his best efforts, T.K. immediately began to stir, inhaling sharply and opening his eyes. “Hey,” he said, voice rough with sleep as he rolled onto his side to face Carlos, allowing him to free his arm completely.

“Hey,” Carlos said fondly, flexing his fingers as feeling began to return. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s okay.” T.K. smiled sleepily. 

“Did you sleep all right?”

“Mhmm,” T.K. said as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Carlos’. “Did you?”

“It was…the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while,” Carlos said honestly. 

“Well,” T.K. grinned lazily at him, “we were pretty enthusiastic when we got back here last night. You were probably exhausted.”

Carlos grinned back, running a hand down T.K.’s side, resting it on his hip as memories of the night before flitted through his brain. They’d had to get a little creative considering T.K.’s stitches situation. He didn’t seem any worse for the wear though. “I think I was.”

T.K. looked a little more awake now, his eyes glinting with that look he got when he wanted something. Carlos liked that he knew what so many of T.K.’s different looks meant now. “Are you still exhausted?” he asked, voice low.

His fingers trailed slowly down Carlos’ spine, causing him to shiver. “Not in the least.”

“Good.” T.K.’s mouth was on his in an instant, hungry, searching, and Carlos lost himself in the kiss as they picked up where they’d left off the night before.

It was an hour later that they both lay in the bed, T.K.’s head pillowed on Carlos’ chest. “I like waking up with you,” he said quietly. 

T.K. didn’t say anything for a long moment and Carlos felt the certainty and bliss of the last few hours stutter in his chest. He thought they’d finally been on the same page, but maybe…

His hand fell back to the bed as T.K. abruptly sat up, determination on his face. The sheets twisted around his waist as he crossed his legs and looked seriously at Carlos. “I want you to know what happened in New York.”

Carlos pushed himself up on his elbow, reaching his free hand out to touch T.K.’s knee. “You don’t have to. There’s no pressure. You can tell me now or never, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I know,” T.K. cupped Carlos’ face in his hand and stroked his thumb across his cheek, his gaze fierce. “And that’s why you deserve to know. If we’re going to give this a shot, you should know everything.”

“Okay,” Carlos said softly, mentally bracing himself. Based on what little he did know, he didn’t think this would be easy to hear.

T.K.’s eyes fell to the bed as he collected his thoughts. “I had only been clean again for about six months when I met Alex. I was at a friend’s birthday party, testing my sobriety in a way I probably shouldn’t have been. Someone introduced us, and we hit it off right away. I realized later the whole thing was a setup. But I was okay with it because Alex was charming and fun and I was so desperate to get my life back on track. He was stable, had a good job, knew where he was going in life; he was everything I wasn’t.

“We were together a little over two years and it was good. We didn’t fight or have problems. I just…didn’t see who he really was until it was too late.” T.K. swallowed hard and twisted his fingers into the sheets. “I loved him. I really did. I wanted to marry him. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him.”

He laughed ruefully and shook his head. “My dad never liked him. My mom did, but my mom likes anyone I like. My dad…he didn’t say anything outright but I could tell. And even if he had said something I probably wouldn’t have listened. I’m uh, I’m kind of stubborn.”

“I’ve noticed,” Carlos said with a smile. 

T.K. smiled sheepishly. “Yeah well, sometimes it’s for the better and sometimes not so much.” His face fell a little. “I had it all set up. Dinner at this fancy place, I was going to propose right before dessert. So cliché, but that’s what I was going to do.” T.K. gave a humorless laugh. “And when he got there I got so excited and I just couldn’t wait. I pulled out the ring and started to get down on one knee and he stopped me. Grabbed my arm and told me to sit down.”

T.K.’s jaw worked and Carlos could tell tears were near the surface. “Hey,” he said, sitting up so they were eye to eye. “Take your time.”

T.K. nodded gratefully and blew out a shaky breath. “He’d been cheating on me. With his spin instructor. They were in love. Now I wonder if the spin instructor was even the first. There were times he seemed distant, and then a couple months would go by and he would be all attentive and sweet again. I think there might have been others, I don’t know. I didn’t ask.

“I had never felt so stupid. Like it was my fault. If I had just been better, done more then he wouldn’t have had to cheat. And I should have seen it. I just wanted so desperately to tick all the boxes that proved I was doing the right thing in my life that I didn’t see any of the warning signs until after the fact.”

T.K. rubbed his hands up and down his thighs, no longer able to meet Carlos’ gaze. “I knew where to get pills fast. So I left the restaurant and I picked up some Oxy and went home. I didn’t even try to stop myself. I just did what I do best in a personal crisis: completely self destruct.”

Carlos’ heart picked up its pace. He knew where this was going, knew that this story ended with them here, together in bed right now, but that didn’t make it easier to hear. 

T.K. cleared his throat. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I just…wanted it all to go away. The thought of being left, of not being enough…it eats away at you until it’s all you can think about.”

He shook his head. “I took a few and when that wasn’t enough I took a few more and then a few more. And the next thing I knew I was on the floor, puking my guts out, with my dad and his crew picking up my pieces. It wasn’t my first overdose, but it was the closest I’ve ever come to…if they’d been even a minute later…”

Carlos felt his throat growing tight. He’d come so close to losing T.K. before he’d ever even known him. The thought made him oddly protective. He wished he could somehow reach into the past and keep T.K. from ever knowing such incredible hurt.

“My dad didn’t report it, not the way he should have. If he had I would have been fired,” T.K. said, his voice breaking a little as he spoke. “He basically took control of everything and told me to pack my stuff. Because of me he uprooted his whole life and dragged us here.”

He looked up nervously, trying to judge Carlos’ reaction. “You know the rest.”

“You were right,” Carlos said softly. “That is messy.”

“It’s a lot, I know,” T.K. said quickly. “I just…I want you to understand why some things might be hard for me. I fell so hard and so fast last time and I can’t take risks like that again. My dad, he needs me, now more than ever. I can’t do anything to put my sobriety in jeopardy. And I realize this,” he gestured to the disheveled bedding and their naked bodies, “doesn’t exactly look like going slow, but as far as feelings and stuff like that go…”

“Hey,” Carlos put a hand on his knee, “I will never pressure you into anything you don’t want. We’re in this together.” He looked T.K. directly in the eye. “And I want to be really clear here; you can trust me. Always. It’s going to take time for you to see that, for us to build that trust together, but you can. And any mistakes I make along the way are mine and mine only, not a reflection of you.”

T.K. looked at him for a long moment, a hand coming up to softly touch Carlos’ face. “You’re so ridiculously perfect.”

Carlos shifted, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

“Well it must be true then,” T.K. said with a smile.

“That is…incredibly sweet,” Carlos said. “But if this is going to work, you can’t put me on a pedestal like that. The only place for me to go is down.” He slid his fingers between T.K.’s. “You and I are the same; flawed, human. I am not some…god among men, now matter how much I might want to be. I have my stuff too. Which I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

“You can’t possibly have baggage like I do,” T.K. said, leaning back against the pillows.

Carlos shrugged. “Yours might be more obvious, but mine could be worse. You have to watch out for the quiet ones, isn’t that what they say?”

T.K. raised his eyebrows and smirked. “You certainly weren’t quiet last night.”

Carlos threw a pillow at him, which T.K. easily deflected. Carlos shook his head, but he smiled. “That is not what we’re talking about.” His face grew serious. “If this is going to work you have to love me for who I am, not some idealized version of me.”

T.K. blinked at him for a moment. “Love you?”

Carlos’ cheeks flamed and he rushed to take back the word that had slipped off of his stupid, besotted tongue. “I didn’t mean—I—“

T.K. laughed. “It’s okay, Carlos.”

“No, I’m sorry. You just poured your heart out and I can’t keep my damn mouth shut—”

“Carlos,” T.K. leaned forward and kissed him, effectively cutting off his apology. “It’s okay.” He traced his fingers down Carlos’ cheek. “I may not be ready to say that word yet. But I am ready to be with you.” He brushed a kiss over Carlos’ nose. “And I like you,” he kissed his cheek. “Very,” his ear. “Very,” his neck. “Much.”

They were falling back into the bed again, limbs tangling, lips finding bare skin. They clearly had so much more to talk about, but for now, what they’d said was enough. If this was love, it would find them the time to take care of the rest.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Unhallowed Arts

Threesome: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones x Brad Davis Rating: E Word Count: 11,077

This is a submission for Thotumn, organized by @spideysmjs!!! Today’s prompt: Threesome (but this fic also includes previous prompts: Semi-Public, Face-Sitting, and “Don’t Be Gentle”).

Summary: “What’s the compromise between abruptly shutting this down (her sex drive weeps) and getting in bed with a guy who will make the experience too emotionally intense?

'Have you ever had a threesome?’ Michelle blurts.

'…What? No.’

‘Neither have I. But I’ve been, um, wanting to try it.’

Have you? she demands of herself, wiping a damp palm on her jeans.

‘You, me, and someone else?’ Brad’s eyebrows are very high on his forehead. ‘That’s a lot of bodies, uh, coming together.’”

Brad Davis has a Mary Shelley mug. He used to drink from it—coffee he brought to work in a thermos from home, which smelled so delicious that Michelle would go out of her way to inhale it over his shoulder, pretending to let him show her something on his monitor—until the mug cracked and he switched to using it to house typical office junk. She asked him about the mug exactly once, fearing it was bait to intrigue a certain kind of person, to make him seem like a certain kind of person himself. But he surprised her. Turns out he’s not a douche (or at least not a douche who lures women in with female authors of historical significance), just a genuine Shelley fan.

He’s not many things Michelle initially assumed him to be, striking them off a mental list over the months they’ve worked together: not a guy who takes the last free seat at the table during a team meeting, not a guy who checks out his own reflection on his black phone screen, not a guy who wears sturdy hiking boots for show. When they troop out to conduct surveys on behalf of the conservation initiative they work for, Brad scrambles up the side of eroding banks and squelches into marshland until water soaks his socks and surface residue clings to his leg hair.

Brad’s not pushy, though she’s well aware that he’s been watching her as long as she’s been watching him.

Early on into them working together, she fell into his arms. Literally fell. The team encouraged Michelle to wait for the second truck, the one bringing the ladder, but she got stubborn and climbed the tree to check the bat box the old-fashioned way. Unfortunately, some of the branches were dead and hollow inside, but Brad caught her when she dropped eight feet. And then flirted with her before she could catch her breath. She had some less friendly words for him in return. The first time he surprised her was when he immediately respected her clear boundaries and backed off. They’ve learned to work easily with each other and drink together in the same booth when people from the initiative hit the bar—on evenings they don’t smell too much like they spent the day in Mother Nature’s armpit. They’re friendly, could almost be friends, except that she’s incredibly conscious of his persistent attraction to her, even if he doesn’t do anything about it because he’s not a douche. It’s a knowledge Michelle simply lives with.

But there have been an awful lot of evenings lately of smelling like whatever swamp she waded into during the day, of either going straight home to shower the stench away (thank fuck for rent with utilities included), or hunching over her laptop as she tries to get a grant application finished before a midnight submission deadline. Nobody she works with is holding their breath for the day the government decides it should just give them the money to protect local habitats without making them prove themselves over and over and compete against other worthy environmental projects for the funds. So, Michelle works, and she wades, and she loses many of the evenings she could be out getting laid.

On a regular they-better-pay-us-for-the-overtime evening and not a marshy/swampy/boggy one, she’s comfortably stretched out in a booth with Brad across the table. Two of their colleagues were here a minute ago, but they got up to… go to the bathroom? Grab another round? That’s a little hazy, but Michelle can feel something becoming clearer to her. Observing her own hand as she twirls the base of her latest empty across the tabletop, she asks a question.

“You like Mary Shelley, right?”

Brad, glassy-eyed but still trying to look professional with the way he has his hands folded on the surface in front of him, smiles at her. She can feel it.

“Yes. Her creativity was astounding. If I were in the running for the Miss Universe pageant—”

Michelle jerks her chin back and looks up to make a face at him.

“—and they asked me what historical figure I would most like to have dinner with, I would say Mary Shelley. Hands down.”

“Cool story, bro. Hey, Brad?”

“Mhmm.”

She can tell by his drifting gaze and expression of introspection that he’s planning out his pageant answers.

“Do you still want to sleep with me?”

That focuses his attention. He laughs uncomfortably.

“Why… why would you think that?”

“Oh, so, what’s your limit?” Michelle presses, slightly snide with the alcohol in her bloodstream. “You’re not interested in going past holding hands? Making out for no more than five minutes? Because you obviously want something,” she rambles on. “You look at me, I know you do.”

“This isn’t just an idle question, is it?” Brad asks.

He leans forward to look at her as carefully as his tipsiness will allow. As if he already knows the answer. Their thought patterns are very similar, she’s found. It’s why they’re effective at work and why it’s possible to fall into a discussion on books during their overlapping lunch hours. She likes him—not a lot, but enough to have started this conversation. She stares back at him.

“I wouldn’t say no to it,” he offers quietly, though the bar is crowded tonight and Michelle doubts their words are traveling beyond the booth.

Now, Brad’s looking at her in a way that makes her realize, all this time, he’s barely been looking at her. With the permission to think of her in this way, there’s a clear desire there, a gaze that slips again and again to her mouth. Huh. Ok. Maybe she didn’t completely think this whim through before sharing it with him. She can’t fuck that Brad. She’s been imagining the drinking companion, the nice forearms he reveals when he literally rolls up his sleeves in the field, the man who will always be a little on her nerves for flirting with her as he cradled her against him. Someone whose world she could casually rock with the assurance that they both have enough self-confidence to carry on afterwards without getting clingy or feeling disposed of.

What’s the compromise between abruptly shutting this down (her sex drive weeps) and getting in bed with a guy who will make the experience too emotionally intense?

“Have you ever had a threesome?” Michelle blurts.

“…What? No.”

“Neither have I. But I’ve been, um, wanting to try it.”

Have you? she demands of herself, wiping a damp palm on her jeans.

“You, me, and someone else?” Brad’s eyebrows are very high on his forehead. “That’s a lot of bodies, uh, coming together.”

“Come on, Brad—”

“‘Where’s your sense of adventure?’” he guesses.

“I was going to say, I thought you loved Frankenstein.”

She rounds her impulsive invitation off with a smile.

—

Michelle doesn’t volunteer to select the third person. When she considers which of her friends and acquaintances she’d be comfortable having sex with, well, there’s Brad. That already hasn’t gone the way she predicted. Everyone else she’s close to either feels like family, is in a monogamous relationship, or just isn’t attractive to her in that way. She consoles herself over putting the choice of their third into Brad’s hands with the thought that he seems like he’d be the most suspect person in a friend group (yes, they get along, but there’s something sleazy about the way he tries too hard), so whoever he asks can only be more tolerable than him.

“So, a buddy of mine said he’d be into it,” Brad says as she’s passing his desk one day. Michelle stops dead and he swivels in his chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest.

“You’re talking about…”

“Yeah.” He darts a look around, then hits her with a conspiratorial smile.

“Oh. Ok. Good. Turtles,” she says more loudly to cover for them. Her gaze darts to the nearest desk, but Jocelyn’s wearing headphones and bobbing her head as she populates a spreadsheet. Reassured, Michelle takes a step towards Brad and lowers her voice again. “What’s his name? How do you know him?”

“His name’s Peter. We play soccer together.”

“How the hell do you have time to participate in organized sports?”

“That’s what I do while you’re working your way through the New York Times Best Seller list,” Brad jokes.

“Fair. But who is this guy?”

“You want his résumé?”

“No, I want to know he’s not going to give me an STI or try anything freaky.”

“Freaky,” he echoes. “As opposed to threesomes, which are an incredibly common thing to do with your boyfriend.”

“Or your friend from work,” Michelle retorts, to keep things very clear. Brad appears fleetingly wounded. Too bad. He can say no any time, but it’s obvious that he’d rather see her naked in a threesome than the alternative. Which is never.

“Yeah, of course. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about Peter. He’s responsible, he’s single, he was raised by his aunt and they’re still really close. She comes to all our games.” He lets out a derisive sort of laugh and Michelle narrows her eyes at him.

“That’s sweet.”

“I guess,” he concedes.

“Why’s he single?” she asks, rapid-fire.

“I don’t know, because he wants to be?”

“‘Wants to be’ like he’s emotionally stable and waiting for the right person to come along or ‘wants to be’ like he’s a flake with commitment issues?”

Brad gives her a look like she’s overthinking this; it betrays an utter lack of comprehension of a woman’s perspective on relationships. The validity of her questions goes over his head.

“Why does it matter if he has commitment issues?”

“Relax,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not trying to date him, it just says something about his personality. I don’t want to do this with somebody selfish, because if he’s selfish in other areas, he’s probably selfish in bed.”

“He’s a good passer,” Brad says. “On the field. He always ends the season with more assists than goals.”

“That’s… not a totally useless testimonial.”

“I appreciate your approval.”

Michelle would laugh if his tone weren’t a little too earnest. The way he really wants to impress her can be grating. Well, he’ll soon have his chance to impress her in a situation where she actually wants to be impressed.

“Get back to work, slacker,” she tells him, returning to her own desk.

Fifteen minutes later, Brad texts her with three different dates to choose from. Michelle pulls up her calendar, colour-coded with deadlines and days she’ll be working out in the woods. Taking late nights and the need for long showers into account, she picks a date, then leaves her thumb hovering over ‘Send’. She puts her phone down.

This is where she could still back out. Brad’s mentioned it to his friend, but she’s under no obligation to either of them. Would it be awkward to change her mind and see Brad at work every day? Yes, though she could always say she just wasn’t that serious about it to begin with. Which she wasn’t! For someone who’s soothed by referring to her colour-coded calendar and progressing through life with each forward step carefully considered, tossing out a suggestion to have a threesome was rash.

Michelle eyes her phone.

On the other hand, Brad likes her too much to be a dick post-ménage à trois, which, as far as she can see, is sort of an ideal trait in a threesome companion. If she were going to do this. She wheels her chair back and cranes to peer across the room at him. Focused on his screen, he brushes his black hair out of his face with a quick swipe of his hand. Damn, he is nice-looking. The kind of guy Michelle would definitely approach at a bar for a one-night stand if he flashed a smile her way. If picturing him naked intrigues her, then the idea of lying down between him and another muscled body (Brad said soccer, so she’s assuming this friend has an athletic build) while the three of them wind over and under each other like a braid definitely ticks a big ‘YES’ box in her brain. Her hand shoots out for her phone. She hits ‘Send’.

Three bodies which will, in Brad’s words, be coming together. Maybe not what Mary Shelley had in mind, but anticipating this threesome does more for Michelle’s libido than an electrified jigsaw of corpses ever could.

—

It’s a different bar, and she’s in different clothes, but otherwise, it’s not a totally foreign way for Michelle and Brad to spend their Friday evening. Provided he shows up. She darted home after work and a loaded glance at Brad, showered, and starred deep into her neglected makeup bag like it was some sort of prophetic tool. Michelle, it said to her, you don’t want lipstick smeared all over your face and eyeshadow fallout stinging your eyes. Leave it at mascara and a whole whack of waterproof eyeliner. She obeyed these wise words with trembling hands, nearly prodding herself in the eye with her mascara wand because, even with a doable task to concentrate on, she was nervous.

She adjusts her short, black skirt, rocking side-to-side on the stool. For a regular date, it’s the kind of item she would borrow from a friend, but it struck Michelle as incredibly gross to wear a friend’s skirt to a threesome and then return it to them afterwards, so she bought this one online. During work hours. Feeling incredibly furtive, though everybody dabbles in online shopping during lulls in their workload. The skirt was never a normal purchase; she knew it was going to end up right here, right now, between her ass and a barstool. She gulps the end of her whiskey and goes back to cradling the beer that’s been her emotional support as she waits for the guys.

Arriving ten minutes early has felt like an age—time stretching wretchedly like those clocks in ‘The Scream’—but she finally hears a familiar voice calling her name. Flipping her hair out of the neck of her leather jacket and grabbing her support system, Michelle turns to spot Brad’s face. He smiles and waves, stepping through the crowd that’s building steadily as the after-work drinkers are exchanged for the cutting-loose-for-the-weekend drinkers. When she slips down from the stool, her skirt rides up, and the man who is usually just a co-worker allows himself to notice. His gaze on her bare legs feels good.

“Sorry we’re late,” he says, though they both know she’s early. But Michelle will take this pleasantry over an implication that she’s overeager.

Since they were at work together only a few hours ago, she skips small talk.

“Where’s your…” Friend, she’s going to say. She doesn’t need to.

Brad—tidy in a partially unbuttoned blue shirt—angles himself towards her side, making room for the woman taking the barstool she vacated, and Michelle sees a man approaching with the two of them as his clear destination. Her first sense of him is filtered through Brad. Once, through Brad’s description, twice, through Brad’s cologne. It may be coming off her friend’s skin, but the scent clings to Peter in her brain. What she’s smelling is the woods, only more expensive somehow, like a perfume company bottled the idea of glamping. Doesn’t matter that the scent doesn’t suit him at all. He walks with his head up, eyes openly excited, and it makes her think of a schoolkid progressing through a museum’s dinosaur exhibit. All he’s missing is a backpack with straps for him to clutch. Letting her gaze skim down from his face, Michelle actually can’t picture him trying to haul on a backpack; his shoulders look broad and strong, even under the incongruous red hoodie he’s wearing.

“Oh,” he says when he sees her standing next to Brad. Under any other circumstances, she’d be taken aback by his eyes scanning the full length of her body, but she’s going to fuck this stranger tonight and when he looks back up to her face, he’s grinning. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replies, more guarded, less forward, until Brad suggests trying to find someplace to sit and Michelle’s able to check Peter out from behind as he leads them away from the bar. Nice butt.

They snag a coveted corner spot as a small group in business attire is leaving it, settling with Brad between them. Peter makes himself useful by dashing back to the bar and returning with the fingers of one hand twined between the necks of a trio of beers and the fingers of the other slightly dipping into the liquid in a pair of tumblers.

“I didn’t know what you’d like beyond what you’re already drinking,” he says, jerking his chin towards the beer Michelle finished while he was gone.

“That’s fine,” she assures him. “I don’t want to be too… I want to be aware of…”

God, trying to discuss the imminent threesome directly is making her flustered. She has a swig from the new bottle he placed in front of her. Peter leans across Brad and offers his to clink with. Where Brad’s face is aggressively handsome in the heavy line of his eyebrows and the sharp perfection of his teeth, up close, Peter’s is cute and unintimidating.

“Here’s to being a consenting participant tonight and remembering it tomorrow,” he says.

Unintimidating, but not uncompelling, especially when he tilts his head back to drink and she can watch the line of his jaw.

Michelle blushes, but knocks her bottle against his.

Two rounds deeper for them and one for her, the heat of the bar and the alcohol in her system are getting to her. She winds her way back from the washroom and shrugs out of her jacket before sitting down. Peter manages to get the end of his sentence out, but Brad doesn’t even try to respond as he takes in the low sides of her silky top. Michelle slides closer to him than she was sitting before and puts a hand on his knee as he finally turns his head and stutters out a reply to Peter. Peter looks past him and catches her eye. Her heart’s springing up and down in her chest because she realized, staring at her reflection as she washed her hands, that, if they’re going to do this, somebody’s gotta make a move. Peter, sleeves shoved up, is staring back at her like he’s been thinking the same thing. His hand smooths over Brad’s thigh.

Under the table, Brad keeps his legs still, his feet flat on the ground. His comfort in his own skin is something Michelle’s always respected. He even succeeds in raising his glass steadily to his lips and taking another drink while Peter runs his hand higher. With a little throat-clearing, Brad parts his thighs further. She doesn’t mean to be, but Michelle’s waiting for Peter to go first. They were talking about something innocuous when he said just enough to imply that he’s never been in a threesome either. Regardless, there’s a confidence in the way he touches Brad. She trails her fingers up Brad’s thigh and Peter locks eyes with her as their gazes cross watching their friend swallow.

Suddenly, the man between them is a little less present, even with the sharp breath he takes at the moment Peter tucks his hand against his crotch. Michelle rests her hand over his. She feels his skin, lets her fingers slip through his, as Brad gasps and swells beneath Peter’s palm; she can tell—they have to change the curve of their grip to accommodate the erection. Brad’s arm curls around her waist and presses her into his side as her and Peter’s hands move together, stroking through Brad’s pants, rubbing him. He glances at her, heat in his eyes, but she’s looking at Peter again by the time she leans in and kisses Brad’s throat. She draws it out into a lick at the slack way Peter’s mouth is hanging open. Hopefully, the fall of her hair is blocking the necking from the view of other patrons, but that hope is tough to keep in mind when Peter’s tongue appears to wet his lower lip. Like she’s kissing him.

There’s a squeeze between Michelle’s thighs that has her gripping Peter’s hand more firmly, urging him to jerk Brad off faster. She glances towards Peter’s lap and he lifts his hoodie with his free hand to expose the bulge in the front of his jeans. The scent of her perfume rises as sweat trickles between her breasts. They knead Brad rapidly until he chokes out a plea for them to stop, begging to take this someplace private. She grabs her jacket in one hand and links the fingers of her other through Brad’s. Tugging him to the exit, she trusts Peter to bring up the rear.

—

Making out in the back of a rideshare is bad behaviour, so Michelle takes the passenger’s seat when the car pulls up. Because she is feeling the need to go back a step from risky under-the-table handjobs and just kiss someone. And that someone is not the friend she arranged this with. She glances at the sidemirror as they’re passing under a streetlight and Peter’s staring at her. He winks. Slowly, like she’s just looking idly around as they drive, she turns to glance into the backseat. Brad has his arm stretched out along the top the seats and his fingers have dipped into the neck of Peter’s hoodie. Michelle’s pulse accelerates just imagining the warmth of that throat. Scrambling for her phone, she sends Brad a text.

Put your fingers in his mouth.

She faces forward again for about a block, prolonging her outward nonchalance even as she hears a vibration, followed by Brad’s soft snort of acknowledgement as he reads her text. She glances around the edge of her seat and sees him act. His hand comes out of the sweatshirt to take Peter by the chin and turn his face towards him. Briefly, he inclines his head towards his friend, speaking too quietly for her to distinguish the words, but Michelle guesses it’s something about her watching because Peter’s gaze jumps to her as he opens his mouth and accepts two of Brad’s fingers. She can see him sucking as Brad withdraws, cheeks flushed. He looks to her—for approval, she thinks, until he holds his wet fingers up and curls them in the air in a highly suggestive motion. Oh shit. Michelle feels herself pressing down on the floor of the car like she’s in the driver’s seat with the accelerator under her foot.

They’re going to her place where: she’s on home turf, she knows it’s clean, she can go right to sleep after kicking them out. Also, the one luxury of her second-story apartment is the king-size bed her friends seriously, outrageously got on ladders to help her push through the sliding door of her balcony because that was easier than carrying it up the narrow staircase. Tonight, she plans to get some good use out of all those acres of mattress.

As with the hijinks in the car, she knows both men are watching her as she lets them into the building and then through her front door.

“Kitchen,” Michelle says, with a loose wave of her hand. “Living room, bathroom. And the bedroom’s at the end of the hall.”

Brad excuses himself to empty his bladder and/or psych himself up in the mirror above the bathroom sink and she’s wondering how to entertain his friend during these uncertain moments of transition when Peter basically lunges forward and kisses her. She moans into his mouth because it’s sudden but it’s good. His hands go right to her ass and her arms wrap around the back of his neck, holding him against her. With her heels, she has a handful of inches on him, but that doesn’t appear to make him pouty or daunted. It’s less than a minute, probably fewer than thirty seconds (understanding the flow of time is temporarily lost on Michelle), but they separate panting.

“You can tell Brad to stick his fingers in my mouth all you want,” Peter murmurs, still staring at her lips, “but I’ve got something I wanna to stick places too.”

“Understood.” She nudges her thigh into his groin.

“So, you guys aren’t waiting for me, huh?” Brad asks with a tight smile as he walks out of the bathroom to see Peter’s hands on her ass and her pressing back against him.

This is kind of the idea, all three of them experimenting with each other, but she can tell he’s annoyed that anything went on while he was out of the room. That he’s possibly jealous. Though it doesn’t feel right to move away from Peter, Michelle knows how to rectify this. She strides to Brad and puts her hands lightly on his chest before kissing him, more coyly than Peter kissed her. She lets Brad come down to her as he hunts out what he wants from the kiss. This feels nice too, though it has more of the familiarity of kissing a friend—even though they haven’t touched in this way before—than the bubbling lust that went with kissing Peter. As she continues, tracing her fingers to the center of his chest to stroke his skin and begin undoing his buttons, Peter comes up behind her and helps her out of her jacket. She hears her keys jingle in the pocket and tap against her phone. When his hands sneak through the sides of her shirt to run across the underside of her breasts, Michelle pushes Brad back, back, back, and the three of them stagger to her bedroom.

She and Brad make out in the dark for a while, and without light, the kissing get rougher, their breathing ragged. Once she has all the buttons of Brad’s shirt undone, she reaches back for Peter and he grips her hand tightly as he grinds his erection against her ass. They’re pressing snugly into her front and back when she thinks of things like being able to locate condoms and ogle muscles—both activities require some light. Michelle squeezes out from between them and turns her bedside lamp on, angling the shade so the light stays low. Turning to check on them, she sees one man standing there with his shirt open and dishevelled and the other rigid in the front of his jeans. Brad’s hard too—she felt it when she stood against him, but his erection’s not visible from where she’s standing now. It’s odd, seeing the space between their bodies and knowing she was just in it. But with Peter rubbing Brad’s dick at the bar and Brad clearly turned on by having Peter suck his fingers on the way here, they’ve been messing around too. Why should they pause to get her back in the middle? Stubborn and curious, Michelle crosses her arms where she stands and gives them an expectant look.

Peter reacts first; he grabs the back of Brad’s neck and stretches up to kiss him. The instant their mouths meet, Michelle understands the three of them have a problem. Trading off sexual favours, these guys are ok, but being on two sides of the same kiss makes them competitive. Fucking weekend athletes. Countering the dominant neck-grab, Brad bats Peter’s arm away and takes his face in his hands. It’s not sweet, it’s controlling. Peter’s next move is yanking Brad’s body against his by crumpling the open front of his shirt in his fists. Oops, well, alright, Michelle decides. Maybe it’s better to put herself back in the equation.

Because she has no intention of babying Brad through this experience, when she slips between them, she puts her back to him. Picturing his disappointed face, she raises her arms.

“Take her shirt off,” Peter interprets, tearing his hoodie over his head in a flurry that peels the t-shirt beneath halfway up his torso.

It’s evident in his method that Brad isn’t interested in being told what to do with her. He makes sure to drag his hands over her as he takes his time. Maybe he’s being a dick about it—that’s what the narrowing of Peter’s eyes tells her as he stares at Brad around Michelle’s head—but she’s enjoying this. There’s something about having spent so much time with Brad and those hands that has her pressing back against his erection. She’s witnessed him performing countless practical tasks, like driving the stakes for ‘Trail Closed’ signs deep into semi-frozen ground with a sledgehammer to protect new plant growth in the spring, knotting a rope leash around the waist of one of their colleagues as overkill when they wade into a pond to collect a sample, or just his impressive typing speed. (Not as many words per minute as she logs, but still.) He’s only quick when he pushes the material above her breasts and shifts his hands down quickly to cover, then massage them. She can almost hear him internally screaming at Peter that he beat him to this, only she doesn’t care. He’s tugging her nipples now and she shuts her eyes with a sigh.

“You like that?” he asks into her ear, which is when Peter loses patience for this display and removes her shirt the rest of the way himself.

Michelle retaliates by dropping her arms and edging his shirt up his stomach while Brad continues to caress her chest, now also kissing her shoulder. Though Peter lets her remove his t-shirt herself, she can add a willingness to get naked quick to the few things she knows about him; he seems like he’d be just as happy to whip all his clothes off at once as go through the foreplay of undressing each other. She remembers what he said to her in the kitchen. He has his own aspirations for tonight and the grin he gives her when she gets his t-shirt off makes her wonder what he wants and how soon she’ll be giving it to him. Michelle can’t feel any part of her resisting. It’s… surprisingly freeing.

Brad shuffles behind her, slipping out of his shirt, and her heart leaps as his chest presses to her back, skin to skin. Peter makes a grab for her crotch, but she lifts her eyebrows wryly and spins to face Brad instead.

“This fucking skirt,” she hears Peter mumble behind her as he slides his hands up her thighs to play with the hem.

It’s not exactly a sexual fantasy she’s fulfilling when she digs her fingers into Brad’s hair and combs it back, but it’s definitely a fantasy. He just has great hair. Sometimes, when she’s bored in a meeting, she’ll look over at him and feel this compulsion to run her fingers through it. She discovers that the strands feel soft and wonderful, so there’s one dream realized.

As she’s moving the palm of her hand down to cup his cheek, she shifts her head to the side, catching Brad’s eye and nodding back towards Peter.

“Kiss him nicely,” Michelle instructs.

Brad’s dark eyes bore into hers for a moment, then he breaks the stare and looks to Peter.

“Let’s go, Parker.”

Satisfied, she gets out of the way, circling behind Peter. While he’s partly distracted by the kiss (tamer than last time, by the looks of it), she rests her hands on his waist. Then, Michelle thinks, Screw it, and feels him up all over his chest, shoulders, and stomach, before wending her way down to his hips. His jeans are probably really putting pressure on his erection right now. She’ll help. After flicking the button open, she means to move away, but… plans change. She’s barely dipping the tips of her fingers below the waist of his jeans when Peter pulls away from Brad’s insistent mouth to mutter, “Well, that’s not fair.”

Instead of continuing, Michelle delights in retreating. Peter’s protesting noise is absorbed by his friend’s lips and she pats his ass before going to tease Brad. First, she guides the hand Peter has on Brad’s shoulder up into his hair so he can share her joy at how touchable it is. Then, she grazes her palms down his back. His friend’s body is dense with muscles, like somebody who goes to the gym a lot, where Brad’s is lean. Their work is a decent split between time indoors and outside, fairly physical, so she knows he has strong legs, good lungs, all the endurance he needs for the days they have to park far from a trailhead or navigate gullies. She forgot to ask what position they each play on their soccer team, but she’ll be concerned with another type of position for the foreseeable future.

To keep things even, Michelle unbuttons Brad’s pants. He makes a needful sound and goes momentarily loose between her body and Peter’s. This is not the reaction she expected from a man so socially comfortable, who apparently maintains a far better work/life balance (and, presumably, a steadier sex life) than she has lately. These noises, which continue as she works his zipper down against the push of his erection, expose him. He makes himself vulnerable. Something zinging through Michelle’s body compels her to take advantage.

She and Peter propel Brad’s co-operative body towards the bed. The guys land with a thump and continue kissing; Peter’s fingers form a gun as he angles Brad’s jaw, driving his tongue into his friend’s mouth. Michelle stares at them, breathing hard for having done nothing. Not breaking the kiss, Brad raises a hand to reach for her, but she’s quicker than that, dropping to her knees. She and the band of his underwear get along immediately—it’s easy to uncover his dick and the elastic cradles him instead of trying to snap back into place against his abdomen. Though the access with his pants still on isn’t amazing, she kisses his stomach, then the head of his cock. Up above, Brad moans.

With a smirk, Michelle repositions a little on her knees and grasps her friend’s thighs. He’s whimpering. He’s full-on whimpering. She leans in and licks slowly up his length. Her heels are already starting to bother her, so she reaches back and tugs them off one at a time. The next thing she means to do is gather her hair out of the way as she shallowly sucks Brad’s erection and strands swing forward, trying to tangle in his open zipper and stick to the saliva she’s coating him in, but Peter’s hand is there first. Still making out with Brad (she can hear it if she can’t see it), he encircles her hair in his grip and rests his fist lightly on her shoulder. Dammit. She’s a soft touch for his soft touch, closing her eyes to the sensation of his knuckles brushing her skin. This stranger is ruining the nice underwear she put on tonight.

“Please, Michelle, please,” Brad breaks free of Peter’s mouth to say.

He reaches out to hold her ribs, cup her breasts, but while he and his friend might share the field on Saturdays or whenever, they don’t seem to be on the same team tonight.

“Nope,” Peter informs him. “I get her next.”

“None of that possessive shit,” she warns.

“Can I please have you next?”

“You must be a real pain for your friends,” Michelle guesses sarcastically, letting him guide her over to his lap instead of Brad’s. (Who’s probably looking sour. She doesn’t know. Her eyes are glued to Peter’s.)

“No pain, I promise. I’ll be gentle.”

She rolls her eyes and settles in, straddling him.

“Oh my—” There is no ‘god’ because he kisses her before she can finish.

That’s his second annoying offense in seconds and she’s going to let him know. Really, she is. But he’s reminding her that he never let go of her hair by lifting it and slipping his hand against the nape of her neck to caress her skin. Michelle angles her hips and grinds up and down the swell in his jeans. Peter doesn’t mess around stroking her legs and hips, he just darts both hands beneath her skirt and traces the edges of her underwear where they curve around her thighs and narrow between them. She can feel him draw the fabric aside and gasps into his mouth, anticipating his fingers, when Brad tips the both of them over.

It’s disorienting, but they twist onto their sides and her friend scoots close behind her, so she decides she doesn’t mind.

“You’re not getting out of this,” Peter speaks quietly against her mouth when she thinks he’s about to kiss her again.

Michelle finds herself smiling, almost laughing, as he flips her skirt up and elects to take her underwear off. There’s only so much he can do like this, so she takes over, kicking them to the floor. That’s annoying offense number three; those underwear are sexy and she thought she’d be showing them off some before they hit the hardwood. Weirdly, Peter’s disregard only makes her smile broaden.

“Like I was trying,” she quips.

“Are we bantering,” Brad checks, “or are we fucking?”

“Dude, I am so sorry for the people you sleep with. Banter is an important part of the process,” Peter instructs.

“Fuck you, Parker.”

“And when you do, I guess I can’t expect any banter. I’ll adjust my expectations.”

“I’ll adjust your nose with my fist,” Brad responds in a playful tone. Michelle isn’t completely sold and she wavers, sandwiched between the two of them.

“Cool,” she says, “but actually, I am here to get laid.”

Two sets of male hands collide where her thighs are pressed together. She takes a deep breath at their enthusiasm, unable to tell whose fingers are skating along the skin just above her pubic hair and whose are subtly attempting to wedge between her legs.

“After you,” Brad says smoothly.

“Thanks, man.”

Her friend’s hands retreat a short distance and Peter insinuates one of his thighs between hers to create some space.

“This ok?” he checks, sweet face even sweeter horizontal.

“Be my guest,” Michelle says, copying Brad’s formality and reaching up and back to squeeze his shoulder so he realizes. She gets a kiss on her neck in response.

Peter’s fingers run slickly through her arousal. It’s a methodical mapping, feeling as though it’s meant to arouse her rather than him, but their eyes meet and he’s wearing an expression like he’s the one being fondled, though his erection cleaves to his abdomen, twitching under his clothes as he fingers her.

“You’re teasing me,” she points out, pulse jumping at her inner thigh.

“Am I not supposed to?”

Michelle tries to rock harder against the pass of his fingers and he moves them away with a grin and a chiding, “Ah!”

“Just give her what she wants,” is Brad’s disgruntled input.

She turns to watch as he sits up and undresses from the waist down. He gives her a smile like they’re on the same side, demonstrated by him advocating for her pleasure—something Michelle’s quite comfortable doing on her own. And yet, alright, her friend’s heart is in the right place, and it is difficult to monitor and decipher the fluctuating moods and responses of two other people, and his directive is obeyed. Peter’s fingers return and push through the wetness he helped generate, touching her entrance and gliding inside her, one finger, then two. Michelle groans deep in her throat because finally.

Brad lies down at her back again and, with Peter working her up, she fumbles behind her and grabs her friend’s ass to encourage him closer. She can feel him hard and hot against her, partly touching her rumpled skirt, partly her skin. He rubs against her and reaches an arm around, greedily squeezing her hip, then sweeping down to feel for her clit.

She’s sweating between their bodies, breathing hard and shuddering involuntarily when Brad gets his fingers positioned to trap her clit and begin gradually cracking her mind like peanut brittle. Where he’s painstaking, Peter’s exultant. He increases the pace of his fingers until they’re shuttling in and out of her. Michelle grips Brad’s wrist with one hand, Peter’s neck with the other, then switches, then moves both hands, grappling for some constancy that the part of her brain currently squashed beneath her need for satisfaction knows she’s not gonna get. Her hips are writhing in their hands as a clear goal fights its way through the fog of lust: unzip Peter’s jeans. It’s tricky, with the over- and underpass of arms, but she does it and he thanks her with a sloppy kiss that only seems to land on her mouth by miracle.

“Close,” she gasps.

Behind her, Brad groans and nips at the base of her neck, making her shake. He’s humping her quickly, pushing with his hips as he pulls back with his fingers on her clit. Good thing Peter hooks his fingers firmly inside her so he doesn’t get jostled off this ride. Good thing too that his curling motion strikes her so, so right. Michelle cries out and comes, his fingers still pumping ruthlessly inside her, Brad pinching her clit, and then coming himself; she feels the jet spurt up her back, probably some on her skirt too.

Which is why she did not borrow clothes for this threesome.

Peter’s expression is impish as he tries to keep coaxing her through the pleasure, but she pushes at his chest and he finally takes his hand away.

“Oh my god,” Michelle sighs, flopping back and half onto Brad.

“Go team,” her friend pants from beneath her.

“Yeah. You guys have some kinda cheer you do at your games?”

“Sometimes we bump chests,” Peter offers, hands suddenly on her boobs.

She twists, trying to see Brad’s face without lifting up. Her temple makes contact with his chin.

“Does your friend have an off switch?”

“If he did, I’d skip that and just pull the plug,” Brad says. He wraps an arm around her and she wiggles until he relaxes the hold, forcing him to make it less territorial.

“Aww,” Peter says, managing to cup her breasts in a perfunctory way, like he’s pushing them up to prevent under-boob sweat while she cools off post-orgasm, “you guys are bantering. I knew you could do it. Also,” he adds, “I don’t know if anyone happens to be keeping track, but I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten off.”

“That sucks, man.”

With effort, Michelle sits up and glares at Brad’s unconcerned face.

“Don’t be a dick,” she says.

“Yeah, Brad,” Peter joins in.

Shaking her head, she puts her back to her friend and checks Peter’s face for her go-ahead. He nods in rapid approval, so she grips the waist of his open jeans and pulls down while he lifts his ass from her bed. Fuck, the three of them never even got under the sheet. Then again, it’s easier to be mobile above it. Plus, it’s an extra layer between her expensive mattress and the fluid drying on her spine.

Because Peter doesn’t seem like the kinda guy who cares to be undressed layer by layer, Michelle doesn’t striptease herself with taking off his clothes slowly. At some point, he kicked his shoes away, meaning it’s straightforward to yank the boxers and jeans down his legs. Her intention is to remove them completely. He doesn’t seem to have a hell of a lot of regard for her intentions.

“That’s far enough, I swear,” he says, when she has his jeans around his shins. “I’m good. Nike time. Just do it.”

“Just do what exactly?” Michelle asks indulgently. She rests a hand on his naked thigh and tries not to stare openly at his dick, red as a slap.

“Anything. Whatever you want. Brad says you’re multitalented.”

Brad rolls over lazily to glare at Peter.

“What the hell, Parker? Don’t make it sound like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I talk about Michelle like that!”

“I get it,” she says, cutting him off. Please shut up, Peter, she thinks. “You talk to him about work. You appreciate me as a co-worker.”

“That’s definitely why I’ve heard so much about you,” Peter agrees provokingly. “Because he appreciates you as a co-worker.”

“You know what?” Brad bites out.

“What?”

Michelle rolls her eyes and opts to terminate this snippy little back and forth by grasping Peter’s cock and bending over to wrap her lips around the head. That shuts both of them up. Thank god, some fucking peace.

He emits a deep groan of approval and weaves his fingers into her hair, slightly bucking his hips. As she sinks to take him deeper, she hears another groan—hoarse with an entirely different emotion—coming from Brad. She doesn’t stop. If he has something to say, he can damn well use his words. Michelle clutches the inside of Peter’s muscular thigh and sucks as she starts to withdraw only to plunge him farther into her mouth. Peter’s hand finds hers and tangles their fingers together next to his hip, catching some of the sheet in his grip too. The gesture dizzies her heart.

While he’s seeing god, Brad’s apparently seeing red, because he taps, then tugs, at her shoulder, until she pulls off of Peter and shoots her friend an impatient look.

“What?”

“I’ll do that,” he says, nodding towards Peter’s straining, saliva-slicked erection.

“Somebody better fucking do it,” Peter says in the tragic tone of an established sufferer. They ignore him for the moment.

“You want to?” Michelle asks skeptically.

When Brad averts his eyes from hers, she realizes that, no, he doesn’t want to, he just doesn’t enjoy watching her blow Peter. She wavers, wondering if she should cancel tonight halfway through. Maybe that would be sacrificing what she wants for the self-esteem of these two men, but they’re just so goddamn annoying. They’re supposed to be friends and they’re acting like rivals. Michelle doesn’t owe loyalty to either of them, she’s nobody’s girlfriend, and yet she’s getting the feeling that she needs to pick a side. Even a novice like her can tell this isn’t the way a threesome’s meant to go. If they were worse at this, she might be able to walk away.

Abruptly, Brad kisses her, then nudges her gently aside as he drops to his elbows to pick up where she left off. Peter draws a fraying breath. Well, either these two aren’t combative enough to present her with an ultimatum, or they just want to get laid as badly as she does. If Brad bites Peter or some shit though, she’s throwing them both out and leaving the necessary medical care in their hands. Michelle will not be responsible for these men and their egos.

Peter tweaks her fingers, their hands still clasped. She leans in close to observe his heavy breathing and the way his hair’s sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“I still want you,” he whispers. The words are like static shock, like a finger tracing unexpectedly down her neck. “And you better be quick because I think Brad thinks he’ll get extra points for speed.”

He gasps, eyes rolling back, and Michelle instinctively cups his neck, running the pad of her thumb along his throat. She doesn’t glance over at Brad; hearing the frantic wet noises paints a sufficiently informative picture.

“You think you can concentrate while he’s doing that?”

“Totally.” Immediately, a desperate, guttural croak leaves Peter’s lips.

“You sure?”

“No, but I still want to put my tongue inside you and that should count for—uhhh!—something.”

“Such as?” she asks with a wry smile, straightening her legs out so she can remove her unspeakably defiled skirt.

“Hell if I know, my concentration was pretty shitty to begin with.”

“Center yourself,” Michelle says in the calm, instructive tone of a yoga tutorial as she levers herself over his chest and rests her ass lightly on the hard planes of his pecs.

“Brad,” Peter begs, “cut me some slack for one fucking minute, dude.”

“One minute, huh?” she teases.

“Are you doubting me?”

“Peter Parker, I don’t even know you.”

But, somehow, she’s beaming down at him as her hair falls around her shoulders. For an instant, he looks completely focused on her and not the sound of Brad switching from giving him head to pumping him in a fist (his version of slack-cutting, evidently). Peter eyes her from her face down to where her legs are spread above his body. Then back to her face.

“I’d like for you to.”

Her teasing expression softens. She parts her lips to respond and he wrenches her forward, onto a mouth that opens at once. He licks up into her, then keep his tongue tensed and prods her clit back and forth. Michelle curls into herself, thighs suddenly snug against the sides of his head, fingers locked in his hair.

This is, perhaps, the single event within the larger experience that sells her on threesomes. Peter’s mouth feels incredible on its own (like he’s fusing the peanut brittle shards of her mind back together again and going too far, melting them into goo), but the intermittent moaning that leaves it due to Brad’s contribution down below means Michelle’s riding something that licks, sucks, and vibrates. She’s a mess. Tilted forward, she’s nearly crying out to plant her hands on the bed and just grind across Peter’s tongue, but the hand not hold hers has her hip in a formidable hold and she can’t reach far enough to be comfortable. Each time she thinks to force her eyes open and check his face to make sure he’s enjoying this as much as she is (and still breathing), Peter’s eyelids are flickering as he absorbs the combined pleasure of taking from Brad and giving to Michelle. She’s shaking and trying not to get too rough with him, smoothing a hand over the hair she’s been practically pulling out at the roots. Peter counters with a quick smack to her ass before seizing her hip again. Fine, she won’t be nice.

Michelle shifts and rolls her clit against the tip of his nose. It positions her entrance above his wide-open mouth and he slides his tongue thickly back inside her. The sound of him tongue-fucking her is graphic. He loses his rhythm and gets even more aggressive with his mouth—she figures he’s close to release. Peter groans and arches his neck and chin up when he finishes, so she lifts swiftly away, hating to do it, aching and slippery.

She throws herself off of him, collapsing back onto her elbows with her thighs quivering. Dazedly, she observes Brad hurrying from the room with his lips clamped together (not a swallower then—the things she’s learning about her friend tonight). Peter’s lying there, spent. With her emotions high, their tableau causes her to despair. It’s over. It’s all over. One of them’s too wiped to carry on, the other’s just finished giving oral and won’t want to return just to bring her to orgasm. Michelle lets her head hang back and swipes two fingers over her clit, catching it and adding pressure on the upstroke.

Peter rolls over like he’s risen from the dead.

“You don’t—” she begins, but then he’s there, between her quaking knees, suctioning his mouth to her and using his tongue to fiddle around with her clit. His arms are limp and heavy as they hold her thighs down and open. Any energy he has is converted into strokes and twirls, from there into her overwhelmed sobs. Brad walks back in to Michelle yelling, “Peter, fuck!” as she climaxes with her head thrown back and his pressed insistently into her groin by her stiff hand. When Brad comes to sit on the bed, Peter’s leg kicks out and catches him right in the stomach. The kick drives him off the mattress and onto the floor with a thud.

Michelle scrambles away from Peter, to the edge of the bed, as Brad stands and starts putting his clothes on, his back to her.

“Are you going?”

She sees Brad’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighs, but he doesn’t answer her. Once he’s dressed from the waist down, he lifts his shirt from the floor with a swish and slips his arms in as he walks back out of the room. Uh oh. Michelle glances to Peter who appears maddeningly unsurprised. She yanks at the bedsheet until he moves off of it, but touches her wrist as she wraps it hastily around herself to chase after their friend.

“I’m sorry if I wrecked this for you,” he says.

“No.” She shakes her head. “He wanted tonight to be something it was never going to be and I thought, when he invited you, that he could handle it, but… I gotta go talk to him.”

“I think I’m already lucky he didn’t jump up and break my nose, so I better stay here.”

“Alright.”

Michelle almost stumbles trying to keep the end of the sheet off the floor, but she gets to Brad while he’s still buttoning his shirt, patting his pockets to check for wallet, phone, keys, maybe the little Swiss Army knife he carries because it always comes in handy eventually.

“Brad,” she says, cautious in cotton and bare feet.

He cuts a look at her with his dark eyes.

“Better not,” he suggests.

“You’re really leaving?”

“Do you need me to stay?”

She hesitates, leaning away from him slightly at the question.

“Well, it was supposed to be—”

“No,” he interrupts. “Do you need me to stay?”

His eyebrow twitches with everything he’s suppressing: hurt, hope, jealousy. Brad’s smart, he knows the answer, but he still ventures forward with grave determination, the way he’d lead a group of their colleagues down a forest deer path that may or may not be crossed with poison ivy. But Michelle is not something for him to sweep clear and overcome.

“We can only be friends, Brad,” she tells him, straight and honest. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy doing this with you…”

He grins ironically, giving her a glimpse of his bright, perfect teeth.

“Please. You two were shutting me out before Parker booted me in the stomach.”

She doesn’t really have a defense for that. They might have touched Brad, grabbed him, licked and kissed him, but none of that compared to how she felt whenever Peter took her hand. She’s actually a little scared to walk back into her bedroom and face that.

“He didn’t mean to,” Michelle asserts awkwardly. Brad lifts his eyebrows. “Probably,” she qualifies. He nods tiredly.

“If he tells you I was a dick to him after our next game…”

“What makes you think I’ll still be in contact with him then?” Brad gives her a look and she frowns, chastened. “I’ll believe him,” she says instead, “and I won’t blame you.”

“This sucks,” he admits, smiling tightly at the floor.

“Can I get you a glass of water for the road? Transit fare?”

“I’d actually rather get out of here and begin the process of trying to forget what Peter’s dick looks like close up as soon as possible.”

She says nothing to champion the dick in question. That would be cruel.

“This was… something I hope we can laugh about someday,” Brad says, and quickly kisses her cheek.

“I’ll—” they say together.

“—text you tomorrow.”

“—see you on Monday,” Michelle says. “Oh. Uh…”

“Space,” he says, understanding.

“Probably good for right now.”

“Yeah.”

When he leaves, she locks the door and bangs her forehead against it. Fuck. She’s going to have to get a new job, isn’t she? Walking in to spot his heartbroken face every day is more than she wants to deal with. Their initiative has a bigger office downtown, not the outpost-like space they work out of. She can apply there. Probably should’ve ages ago, when she started outgrowing the place she’s at. She’ll miss traipsing around outside the city, having to check her legs for ticks, her hair for spiders, and her arms for dead-branch-inflicted scratches deep enough to require infection-preventative measures, but she can buy some fucking plants. Start a garden in her windowsill. Hike on the weekends. Regain some of that thankless grant application time by devoting it to projects more clout will actually allow her to push forward. Be the chooser instead of the beggar.

Michelle laughs at herself, faintly tipsy and two orgasms deep, standing alone in her entryway in a poor man’s frat party toga.

She gets herself the glass of water she offered Brad. She pees with her goddamn adult white sheet scrunched up in her lap like a bride’s dress on her wedding day. She strides back to the bedroom and drops the sheet at the door.

“Hello,” Peter says, perking up.

“Hello yourself.” The man is stark naked and unashamed. “You’ve been, what, chilling?”

“I also eavesdropped.”

“You’re a loser.”

“I’m the loser you haven’t kicked out of your apartment,” he points out. His gaze slips naturally to her chest as she climbs onto the bed on her knees and takes a seat beside his prone body.

“Why is that?”

She asks rhetorically, but Peter either doesn’t pick up on that or ignores it. She kinda likes that about him. Where Brad tries so hard with her, Peter leaves her room to try a little too.

“You like me.”

“Unfortunately, that is possible.”

“Unfortunately? Give me back those orgasms I gave you then,” he demands.

“Orgasm,” Michelle corrects, emphasizing the singular. “The first one was assisted. You can’t take full credit.”

“Bullshit.”

She shakes her head but Peter grabs the back of her knee, pulling her forward, stretching her out, until she’s on her back, laughing, and he’s hovering over her, inches from a kiss that she really, really wants to receive. Strange.

“Is not,” she tells him flatly.

“Then I’m earning that plural.”

“Oh yeah?”

Instead of kissing her or lowering himself down onto her or otherwise touching her in any way at all, Peter leaves. Michelle sits up and looks after him, baffled.

“Where are your washcloths?” he shouts from the bathroom 30 seconds later. A laugh bursts out of her.

“Tall cabinet next to the shower!”

She listens to him running water in the sink. Laughs again when he returns at a run.

“Flip over!” Peter says wildly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Come on, while it’s still hot. It’ll feel nicer.”

Michelle rolls her eyes and maneuvers onto her stomach. He washes her back with the warm cloth. He washes her back. She folds her arms under her head and pillows her cheek on them, candidly observing him. In a practical sense, Peter’s wiping away what Brad left behind, and buying himself time to get hard again, she’s certain. But it doesn’t all feel like practicality. Not when every pass of the cloth is so careful, or when Peter makes another sprinted trip to the bathroom to heat it up for her, or when he’s lying down alongside her by the end, beginning to lightly kiss her clean skin.

“I don’t understand you,” she hears herself confess.

“I’m an enigma,” he agrees. Michelle snorts.

“I do like you though.”

“Called it.”

He chucks the damp, cooling washcloth over the side of her bed and she glares at him.

“This room has wood floors. Which I pay for. As a feature of this apartment.”

“It’s not on the floor, it’s on my jeans.”

“So, it’s soaking into your jeans right now? That’s convenient for you.”

“Is it?” Peter asks vaguely. His hand is rubbing back and forth very low on her back.

“I’m assuming you’re not planning to get back into wet jeans tonight and make your way home.”

“I would if you asked me to,” he swears, giving her puppy-dog eyes.

“Are you forcing me to say this out loud?”

A winning smile. She sighs in exasperation and turns onto her side, propping her head up with her hand.

“Peter, would you like to stay over?”

“Do you want that?”

“You’re a pain,” she says for the second time. Peter continues smiling, waiting. Michelle takes a deep breath and keeps her eyes on his, not letting her gaze drift around the apartment that is nice but lonely, tranquil but lifeless. It has life with this surprising person in it. “I want that.”

He shuffles close to her with a grin.

“I want that,” he says, brushing his lips across hers.

“Mmm,” Michelle agrees. Her eyelids fall. She parts her lips for his tongue. His hand fits into the curve of her waist and slips over to touch her back. His thickening erection nudges her mons, then her abdomen as he swells against her. Her moan skips and drags and Peter clutches at her more purposefully, tipping her onto her back.

“Condom,” she remembers, and points him to the box tucked out of sight. Discrete for the fact that she bought it for use in a threesome with a work friend and a total stranger.

Peter holds up her copy of Frankenstein, resting beneath the box.

“You a fan?” he asks, returning it to its place and tearing open the wrapper on the condom.

“I’ve read it twice, but I think I prefer Dracula.”

“Aw, I’m a wolfman guy,” Peter offers. He puts the condom on like it’s a sock or a baseball cap; there’s definite familiarity there. And Michelle doesn’t care. “Dracula and Frankenstein’s monster are creepy, sure, but the wolfman is two different people: the regular guy and then this creature in the shadows during the full moon. I don’t know, I think there’s something really cool about that. You ever watch the old Lon Chaney movies?”

Ok, she more than likes him. She likes him quite a lot. Smiling, Michelle shakes her head.

“Well,” he says, but he stops talking then. There’s a depth to the look in his eyes as he gazes at her. She lets him in and stands as horizontal witness to his existence in blinks and breaths and the pound of his heart she can almost feel from here.

“Why don’t you get the light?”

Click.

In the dark, it’s less of a performance, not that Peter doesn’t clearly intend to perform. Michelle’s eyes rest without the light and she breathes deeply as Peter comes over her and kisses her neck. Her eyes are still adjusting while he takes a meandering route down her chest, pressing his mouth harder against her breasts. He licks across her nipple; she scratches her nails up the back of his neck and into his hair. When she lets out the smallest huffing sound of enjoyment, he cups his hand between her thighs, skates a finger along her entrance. As if she wouldn’t be wet. As if the foreplay didn’t start the minute he walked back in with that warm cloth and draped it across her back.

“Any specific requests?” he asks, lifting his head from her chest. She can see his face now. Enough light gets in around the edges of her blinds. She runs her fingers through his loosely curling hair, then arches her body up against his.

“Don’t be gentle.”

Michelle feels the eager tremor of his hand against her inner thigh as he lines himself up and eases inside her. His breathing catches. She tilts her hips and raises her knees from the bed, urging him in, farther, all the way. Peter withdraws and she’s assuming he’ll build up to what she asked for, but he slams back in. Though she clenches her teeth around the sensation of him filling her so hard and so well, a whine escapes.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” she acknowledges, accuses, admires.

He pauses, hands planted to either side of her on the bed.

“Like I said, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’ve been waiting for this since I convinced Brad to tell me your name.”

She wants to think and hide and hold him close, but she can reflect later. He seems to agree. Peter’s thrusts are rough and rhythmic. Pounding into her like a machine one minute, he’ll be playfully grabbing her wrists and licking her neck the next. When she tightens her legs around him, he lets her change their positions, only to haul her beneath him again—on her stomach this time—as he rocks in and out and wedges his hand under her to rub her clit. They chase each other across her mattress and Michelle comes clawing at her pillow, invigorated by the certainty that this is the best time she’s ever had in bed. Peter bites her earlobe as he snatches one of her scrabbling hands and spills into the condom.

He doesn’t help her remake her bed with clean sheets because he claims to be “bad at it.” She’s debating the potential truth of that when he returns with a bowl of popcorn after leaving her alone to do it herself, joins in, and somehow puts a lavender pillowcase on inside out. Michelle sets it right with a laugh and they get back in bed together, popcorn and her laptop playing Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man between them.

She slips away to shower after Peter falls asleep with his head on her lap. When she gets back, she quietly removes the bowl and the laptop. The bed’s a king—she’s used to her space and she doesn’t need to sleep close to him—but Michelle squirms into the warmth his body radiates. He stirs enough to breathe in the scent of her hair, kiss her forehead, and thrust his hand into hers. Confused by the gesture, she frowns at his face, with its softly closed eyes.

“By the way,” Peter mumbles, shaking her hand, “nice to meet you.”

Michelle smiles and pats his arm as he drops it over her, instinctively pulling her close.

[levisnackajack]

The Wrath of War

The link to the story in AO3 is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28919136/chapters/70952145

Chapter Five

The sweet taste of victory lingered on her lips.

With all the pain, suffering and anguish; it was a very rare moment for Eden to feel anything but miserable. 

A soft sigh escaped through her lips as her horse galloped in sync with the rest of the Squad’s horses. They all seemed so intimidating. Except Petra; the only other female on the team. She had greeted Eden with wide, bright eyes and a gentle, reassuring pat on the shoulder. The younger girl could only smile meekly in return. She thought back to how she didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye to Armin and Mikasa; catching their blank, puzzled stares as Captain Levi shoved her towards her horse.

The horses ambled deeper into the woods, until the view of a huge, abandoned fortress lay in sight. Eden twisted her head to look back at Eren; but met Levi’s disinterested stare boring back at her instead. Her eyes narrowed as he maintained eye contact; very well aware of the fact that she looked a second away from snapping at him. 

It was as though he was testing her.

She turned back towards their destination, pulling on the reins gently; urging her horse to slowly cease his quick trot. 

“These are our headquarters for the time being. I expect the entire place to be spotless by sundown,” Levi commanded in a dull tone as he mounted off his horse; running his fingers across his own horse’s muzzle. 

Eden didn’t hear him; eyes trained on her own horse as she stared into its jeweled eyes. She stroked his mane, unable to believe that she was now responsible for this creature. She had never ridden a horse before today. Knowing very well she was being scrutinized by her new captain; she chose to deny him of that fact. Surprisingly, she was a natural. Her team would have probably assumed that she’s ridden horses for a hobby. 

“Oi. Are you deaf or something?” She leaped at the heavy hand that ripped her out of her own thoughts. Eden glanced back at the Captain as he glared at her through tired, narrow eyes. 

“No sir, I’m sorry.” She replied, staring back at him defiantly, unmoved. 

The tension in the air could have been sliced with a blade as Levi’s face twitched imperceptibly. 

He raised a brow, eyes darkening as he tipped his head to the side. “Want me to write the instructions down for you? Move.” 

Eden nodded, looking down as adrenaline rushed through her body at an immensely quick speed. She grabbed onto her horse’s reins and proceeded towards the stable. 

That’s until she heard the familiar scoff.

“Actually, since you’re already on your way to the stables; why don’t you tidy it all up for our horses? After all, they should be treated with respect too,” Levi announced, eyes glued to the back of Eden’s head. She could feel his stare burning through her skull, which made the hot feeling of anger spread through her entire body like wildfire. 

“Yes, sir,” She said through gritted teeth as she walked back towards him; passing him by a bear few inches as she snatched his own reins. His eyes narrowed but apart from that, stayed quiet. 

It was way after sundown when Eden had finished cleaning the horses and the stables. The place certainly screamed ‘abandoned.’ The stench was horrible and she gagged as soon as she walked through the wooded entrance. 

But after taking the time to open all the windows, scrub the floor and replace the water and hay; the odor had definitely lessened. 

“What did you do? Use yourself as a mop to clean the entire stables? You look filthy,” Levi’s voice leered from the entrance of the barrack. Eden picked herself up and frowned into the darkness, barely visualizing her Captain’s silhouette with the lack of moonlight. 

“Are you going to keep treating me like trash the entire time? I get it, your first impression of me isn’t exactly perfect but are you going to keep reminding me of it?” Eden called out when she didn’t hear Levi’s advancing footsteps. 

Then, that same pause shifted between them. It was gone in the blink of an eye, but it ridiculed Eden; mentally kicking her as she thought back to what she had just said to him. 

“If you can’t handle simple cleaning instructions, then what the hell are you doing in my squad?” He replied in a darker voice that made Eden’s jaw clench in annoyance. “Obviously Erwin saw some kind of potential in you to personally invite you in the Scout Regiment. But, don’t assume that just because that happened, I’ll be feeding you with a silver spoon. Now get yourself cleaned up and meet the rest of the group in the dining hall.” The sound of his boots grew fainter as he strode off. 

 Eden took a deep breath as she calmed her nerves, wiping the grime off her cheek with her sleeve. 

Thankfully, she met Petra upon entering the headquarters. The older woman nervously looked around them as Eden stepped in with her muddy boots. 

“Captain said your room is up the stairs; the second room to the right. I’m in the opposite hallway,” She said, her voice sweet and gentle. Her eyes kept flickering to Eden’s boots which finally called the younger girl to voice her thoughts. 

“Is there a problem?” 

Petra looked back at her, rubbing her back of her neck awkwardly. “Captain Levi is very strict when it comes to cleaning; if you haven’t noticed already. He made Eren clean the top floor three times because he kept finding dust under the desk and bookshelves. Not that I’m one to gossip, but with a childhood like his, I can understand his need to keep everything in immaculate condition.” 

“What do you mean by...-” the raven-haired girl began, only to have her words lose their trail in her mouth once she heard the sounds of the other team members echoing closer. 

Petra gave her a wary smile and ushered her towards the staircase. “Go on now. Rookies make mistakes. I’ll deal with this.” She looked down at the dirt footprints marking the stone floor as she pushed her strawberry locks behind her ears. 

Eden easily found her room. It was small, dark and incredibly cold. She shivered, eyes settling on the neatly folded uniform resting atop the bed. 

Her teeth grinded as she suppressed a cry once her naked body was met with the frosty water seeping out of her shower. She made sure to scrub all the filth she had gained after spending her first afternoon with Levi’s Squad cleaning the stables. 

The young soldier quickly dried herself and jumped into the uniform, tightening the straps on her boots and pulling her hair into a tight bun. She stared at herself in the mirror; surprised at the woman who stared back. 

With her hair slicked back, her cheekbones stood more defined against her porcelain skin. Her large, almond-shaped eyes framed by thick lashes and the arch of her brows symmetrical. She looked down at her uniform, gnawing on her lip as her palm glided over the soft material. 

She was a Scout and no matter how hard Levi would push her; she would prove how she was the best choice for his squad. 

“Fresh meat, you’re late,” the much older, blond man with defined wrinkles voiced once Eden made her way into the dining hall. Oluo Bozado, his name was. 

At the head of the table sat the captain, uniform crisp and clean; his tired eyes peaking through the longer strands of his hair concealing the top part of his face. He silently watched Eden over the brim of his tea cup as she soundlessly made her way to sit beside Petra. 

Eren looked at her from the other side of the table; his gray-blue eyes glimmering awkwardly. 

Petra offered Eden a cup simmering with tea, but Eden scrunched up her nose and shook her head slightly. Petra laughed softly. 

“You’re not a tea-drinker?” 

“Not at all. I prefer coffee,” Eden replied in a low voice, but it seemed to be loud enough for Levi to hear because he continued sipping on his own tea with a very disapproving look. 

She had heard about the captain’s love for tea. This was just another one of the many reasons that kept reminding her how much they clash.

Levi placed his cup back on the table and rapped his fingers on the wooden table. 

“For the next few days we will reside here and train. Hange is on her way to meet Eren. You’ll be spending your time with her, you lab rat,” Levi muttered, shooting Eren a glare as he looked down at his own cup of tea. 

Eden sat quietly listening to her fellow teammates conversate. She soon found out the rest of the men’s names; Eld Jinn who was second in command and Gunther Schultz. 

Oluo turned his pompous stare towards the quiet, small girl and snorted. “What made such a fragile girl like you join the military? Tired playing with dolls all day?” He grunted as Petra kicked him under the table angrily. 

“I’m not fragile,” Eden replied in a calm manner albeit the white knuckles she hid under the table. “As a matter of fact, I plan on showing you exactly how fragile I am tomorrow during sparring.” 

Oluo raised a brow and let out another humorless snort. “Please. I’ll be done with you before you can wipe the snot from your nose.” 

“That’s enough,” Levi spoke, his stern glare focused nowhere in particular. He turned his eyes to Eden, who had bitten her lip to the point where she could taste the specks of her own blood. 

“Our goal is to find out exactly what the hell is going on with Yeager. Can you tell us more about your new talent?” 

Eren swallowed hard, his mouth parting as he began to speak.

“I’m terribly sorry I’m late! Please excuse me, Captain!” A loud, piercing voice interrupted the young boy. 

A tall, older woman barged through the doors with a lopsided grin carved onto her face. She had her messy hair pulled up in a ponytail; wide eyes concealed behind the glasses wrapped around her head. She winked at the captain, who in turn completely disregarded her, choosing to focus on his empty cup of tea. 

She stopped, eyes jumping from Eren to Eden. 

“My name is Hange Zoë, leader of Squad Four. Eren and...Eden, right?” 

Both cadets nodded tightly. 

“The pleasure is all mine. Tell me, how does it feel to know your friend over here possesses such capabilities?” She walked over to the raven-head; leaning over the top of her chair. 

Eden swallowed thickly as she stared into Eren’s eyes. “I think he’s the key to saving humanity.” 

Her quipped response earning another grunt from Oluo as Petra sat beside her silently. Hange squealed in response. 

“I can only imagine what answers lie in that pretty head of yours!” She hopped around the table, patting Eren on the head. He frowned deeply. 

“Nevertheless, I can fill you in on what research I’ve gathered so far on this topic. It’ll take some time, but I’m sure it could light a bulb in your brain,” she continued, pulling the seat beside Eren hungrily. 

The rest of the team stood up abruptly, muttering incoherent excuses about why they want to be dismissed. 

Levi gave a stiff nod and the crew dispersed; leaving himself, Eden, Hange and her new experiment sitting around the wide table. 

Facts, stories and drabbles spewed out of Hange’s mouth as she begin uncovering a whole line of events that led them to believe Titans hide much more in those thick heads of theirs. 

Eden was interested at first, but as the stories continued expanding, she felt her eyes slowly droop until someone kicked the leg of her chair. 

She yelped, jumping out of her seat and against Levi’s solid chest. The girl stepped back, jaw clenching as he sent her a wary glare.

“Go to bed, brat. Tomorrow, I plan on checking just how good you are at sparring personally. If you fail because you preferred lingering around listening to Four-eyes’ fairytales; that’s on you.” He turned and walked out of the dining room. 

Eden pinched the bridge of her nose, letting go of an exasperated breath before heading back towards her room. 

She was gone before her head had hit the stiff pillow. 

[ohlovelyprongs]

Always There

Summary: y/n has a history with panic attacks and her boyfriend Spencer helps her go through them.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Content/Warnings: angst? fluff? both?

Word count: 1723

n/a: Hey! This is my first au ever so don’t be scared to give your opinion about it. I think it turned out pretty well but feedback would be really appreciated. I hope you like it<3   *gif not mine*

“You are being really naughty, babe” said a man on a mask and a knife on his hand. You were tied to a table with your hands and feet immobilized, and you could feel the tip of the weapon right on your stomach as you were only in your underwear. You flinched as it was cold, but you were sure that you could take it.

“I’m not your babe, asshole” you responded, making him even more angry. He didn’t hesitate, and with a quick move he stabbed you right in the middle of your naked torso. You squealed, a tear falling down your cheek. The mystery man let out a little laugh and removed the mask that was hiding his face. He stared at you with his dark black eyes and came closer to you to whisper in your ear.

“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t said that.”

And then everything went black.

You woke up breathing heavily and with sweat running down your forehead. The fear installed itself in your mind, taking control of your thoughts and emotions. It was hard for you to keep your breathing even after that awful dream, just like had happened many times before. You shut your eyes while sitting down and tried to focus on positive things but, by doing so, those dark eyes appeared in front of you and made it ten times worse. Your hands travelled to your head, trying to keep out the memory of what had happened to you last month.

It was clear that you didn’t get over that completely. Your boyfriend and team partner Spencer Reid had been there to help you go through it all, but you couldn’t help falling again in that never-ending spiral of panic and anxiety you thought you’ve left behind. Of course no one expected you to move on so quickly as you were about to die if it wasn’t for the BAU team, but it was being harder than you thought it would be. You didn’t get it, though; why was your dream so much eviler than what actually happened? A one-on-one confrontation does not resemble to dying tied to a table, but the feelings were the same and those brought the past back.

“Y/n? Are you ok?” Spencer sat on the bed next to you when he felt you move, and placed his hand on your shoulder. You shook your head in response, letting his arms surround you on a tight hug. Your breathing was still uneven and fast, and everything you did to slow it down ended up in a failure. “Breathe with me, y/n. Just breathe with me.” Spencer’s voice was rough as he had just woken up but it was soothing and calming. You placed your forehead against his and your hand on his chest, right above his heart, so you could sense his heartbeats. He took a deep breath that you imitated while he rubbed his hand up and down your back.

Slowly, you started to calm down. After a few minutes of breathing, both of you stayed silent. You took your hand out of his chest and melted against him. The tears that had been held back started to blurt out and all you wanted was to be close to Spencer forever. He tightened his grip, your sobs being the only sound that filled the room. He hated seeing you like this, and even though it had happened before, it was hard for him to control his own emotions for you. You needed someone stable who could hold you, and he had to be that person. He wanted to.

“Do you wanna lay down?” he asked softly against your hair, brushing it with his hand. You gave him a little nod before throwing yourself again in bed. Your head was on Spencer’s chest, his heartbeats quieting your demons one more time. His arms never let go of your body, keeping you close to him, keeping you safe.

“Thank you” you managed to say, eyes closed at the feeling of his hands petting your hair. You were so grateful for having him, but you didn’t have enough strength to say something else. Your arms squeezed his torso, just to show him that you really meant it.

“I’ll always be here for you, y/n. There’s no need to thank me” you looked up at your boyfriend, his eyes shining in the darkness and his messy hair falling on his face. You were amazed by his beauty and kindness. You never wanted to be with somebody else.

“You promise?”

“I promise” a little smile formed on your face when his hand reached up to clear some of the tears that still rolled through your cheeks. You hugged him again, this time with your mind at ease.

“I love you” you whispered, your body turning off and falling asleep almost immediately. You didn’t hear it, but Spencer replied.

“I love you more.”

...

The alarm went off and you had to make an effort to stir your arm to turn it off. You stayed in your position for a couple of minutes, waiting for Spencer to hug you from behind like he always did in the mornings. But that day wasn’t the case. You turned around just to find the other side of the bed empty and sighed. You were already missing his touch and warmness.

You flinched as you stood up, stretching your arms above your head. Through the window entered some rays of sun that illuminated the room. The trees outside waved a little and a shiver ran down your spine, causing you to cross your arms on your chest. A hint of a smile appeared on your face; you loved windy days, it reminded you of times where problems didn’t exist and there was only happiness.

The smell of coffee returned you to reality, and you couldn’t help but to follow it to the source. Walking barefoot through the hallway you arrived at the kitchen, where you saw Spencer from behind. As soon as he heard you, he turned to you with a smile and with a take-out mug on his hand.

“Hey” you greeted him, the familiar routine finally occurring.

“Hey, I made you coffee” he extended the mug to you, your hands touching casually when you grabbed it. The warmth irradiating from it to your skin caused chills inside of you. You hadn’t noticed how cold you actually were. “How did you sleep?”

“I’ve had better nights” you admitted with a sigh. “I’ll manage it. I just need to find a way.”

“It’s the third time this week, y/n” you really didn’t want to think about it. To overcome the nightly panic attacks in the past, it took you meeting and opening to Spencer. He’d been way more helpful than all the therapy and pills you’d taken. But now that they were back, you really didn’t know how to handle them, and neither did Spencer. You could see how worried he was about your mental health and it made your heart ache to not be able to remove the sadness you saw in him. The last thing you wanted was to drag his pure soul into your own personal hell.

“I know but… I just need time. That’s it” you gave him a comforting smile because you thought he needed to see one, even if you had to force it a little. He smiled back, but with sorrow in his eyes. Even though he knew he did the best he could, he just wished he could’ve done more. You were his sunshine; he didn’t want your light to go away. You took a sip of coffee while your sight was fixed on Spencer’s clothes. He was wearing his typical sweater and work belt while you were still on your pajamas. “Why are you already dressed up?” you asked, your eyes travelling to the clock on the wall. It was 7:38 a.m. You choked and almost spilled your drink. “Oh my god, we’re horribly late!” You squealed. You usually woke up at 7 a.m. so you could have enough time to eat something and get ready –including the morning cuddles–. But now you had only 12 minutes before heading out to Quantico and you hadn’t done any of those things yet.

“Relax,” said Spencer with a chuckle “why do you think I made it to take out?” he pointed at your mug with his head. You looked at it confused, thinking about it for a second. Then you realized.

“You let me sleep” your eyes met his, and all you could see was pure love irradiating from them.

"I, uhm, calculated how long you take to get ready and set the alarm for another half an hour. I thought you might need it." Your heart melted, he was too precious for this world. He really meant it when he said he’d always be there for you.

You approached him, leaving the mug on the counter behind him, and you joined your lips to his. Without any doubt, his hands travelled to your waist, pulling you closer to his body. Your fingers wrapped around the hairs at the end of his neck, making the kiss more intense, but keeping it soft and delicate. You’ve missed this. More than eight hours without kissing him was hideous. “You’re the best” you whispered against his mouth, a smile spreading on both of your faces. “What did I do to deserve you?” you kissed him again, but this time it felt different. His hands started wandering up your shirt and you were loving the feeling of his skin on yours. However, you needed to get to work, and Spencer had to control himself the moment you tried to remove his sweater.

“I think you should get ready or else we’ll definitely be late” he hummed, breaking the contact between you two. You pecked his lips before swaying away from his arms.

“We can finish that later” you winked at him, then headed back to your room. He let out a little laugh while fixing his clothes; like he hadn’t thought about that already. He picked the mug you’ve left next to him and was about to take a little sip, hoping you wouldn’t notice, but your voice made him put it back down. “Oh, and don’t drink my coffee!” He rolled his eyes, but inside he was delighted. Regardless last night, you were still happy.

It was all that mattered.

[literary-spirit]

Chapter 2

Bjorn stared at Bonnie as if a second head had sprouted from her neck. "So what are you implying? That the world is not flat but-,"

"Round!" Her head bobbed in a rapid series of nods. "Yes."

He watched her for a moment longer before snorting, "Impossible...ridiculous even! Surely if I were to sail too far in either direction my ship would eventually fall into oblivion."

"No, you'd just end back up in the same place you-,"

"Land!" A gruff voice growled from the head the ship.

Torn from their back and forth, she looked up and her chin almost smacked the floor of the ship. The sight of Kattegat snatched her breath and knotted her tongue. Television didn't do Ragnar's kingdom any favors compared to what the naked eye perceived in person.

"What you're feeling now is the same feelings I have each time I return. Bonnie," Bjorn whispered next to her ear, before his rough palms closed around her hands. "Swear your allegiance to me. Remain always at my side and I vow to protect you for as long as we both remain on Midgard."

Confusion wrinkled her brows. What the hell had she done to provoke such and oath from one of history's greatest names? "Why offer me this? You hardly know me."

"Because the same emotions I feel when I return to Kattegat is the same sentiment I felt when I looked upon you for the first time," he gave her hands a squeeze, "Something within speaks to me."

"Wha-," her voice went hoarse in the presence of a throat so dry she doubted even high quality h2o could quench her thirst. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed and tried again. "What does it say?"

A smile caressed his mouth as he lifted her hands to press a kiss to the back of them, "To hold you dear. For you're to be treasured."

"Bjorn-,"

"Will you bequeath me your vow, Mystical One?" He demanded as he imprisoned her in his electric stare.

Unable to do anything but give into the iconic Viking who was destined to carve his name across time, she nodded once. "Yes, Bjorn Ironside. You have my allegiance. My sworn word that I will never stand across from you on a battlefield and if left up to me, I vow to remain by your side for as long as we both shall live."

The words were out her mouth before they had a chance to tap dance across her mind. What the hell? Why the hell would she promise such a thing? She had to find Klaus! There was no time for her to become just another name on Bjorn Ironside's hitlist.

"Good, this pleases me," He laughed and released her hands to clap his. "Now we must seal our sacred vow." The laughter faded from his features as his facial muscles stiffened into a mask of sincerity.

Her breathing slowed while she prepared for the fuckery sure to follow. "How? Please don't say by blood."

"No, this way is the right of it," he whispered as he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face. Slowly, he leaned down to allow his lips to graze hers. Before it fully registered what jumped off he pulled away. "Now it is done."

"Okay, so now that's out of the way," she cut her gaze to the shore as she attempted to even her breathing and calm the flipping in her stomach. "How do you plan to explain me to your wife and the rest of your family?"

Bjorn's face scrunched. "How-," she halted his question with an unflinching gaze. The smirk on her lips hinted at all-knowing. He inclined his head as a concession of sorts, "Allow me to worry over my family. I have given you my sworn oath. There is no other in Midgard who can compel me to break my vow to you."

"Alright, my protector," she glanced over the multitude of people who at present packed the harbor, "I believe you."

Bjorn helped her off the ship onto the dock. When he turned two children raced into his arms followed by a petite woman with crinkled flaxen hair. Torvi. After the kids had released him, she threw herself in his arms and kissed him so hard she damn near sucked his whole head in her mouth. Moments later he untangled himself from her hold.

"How fare your travels, husband? Did the gods smile favorably upon you, was greatness achieved?" Torvi questioned as her gaze drifted to Bonnie and lingered.

"My travels have fared better than even I anticipated. For the gods have bestowed upon me the most wondrous of gifts," Bjorn turned to cast a wide smile at her and an extended hand. Accepting the outstretched palm, she allowed him to pull her to his side, "This is Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls and she is under my protection."

"Is she a slave then, Bjorn?" The oldest of the two boys questioned.

"No, Guthrum," Bjorn kneeled before the child to stare him in the eyes, "She is to be a most sacred friend to our family and that is how we shall all regard her."

"But she is dressed as a slave," Guthrum insisted, waving a hand at the burlap sack dress she wore.

Bjorn tsked. "Guthrum, it is not the garments that are donned which confirms the value of one's worthiness. However, worry not. For she shall be cloaked in the finest hides, silks, and furs befitting her station soon enough."

Raw pain etched its way across Torvi's face. "So you have taken a mistress?"

"I'm not his mistress, nor will I ever be," Bjorn head snapped around to peer up at Bonnie and she gave him a look that carried the weight of her words, before her gaze swung back to meet Torvi's flared stare, "on that you have my word."

"She speaks our language," She said, her words ringing more as a statement than a question, "Fluently, it would seem. Did you teach her?"

This gave Bonnie pause. Weren't they all speaking English? There wasn't an ice-water day in hell she spoke old Norse fluently. Not even with Super Head's tongue.

"Bjorn!"

Two tall lean muscled boys just beyond the dawn of manhood with eyes as transfixing as Bjorn's, cut through the crowded dock. Without any need for introductions, she knew who they were before hello crossed either one of their lips, Ubbe and Hvitserk. One after the other, they gathered Bjorn in a spine crushing hug. Each brother concluded their embrace with a pound to the back.

"How went your raid, brother?" Ubbe asked. A longing flicker which couldn't be mistaken for anything other than wanderlust sparked his unblinking azure stare, "Was the plunder worthy of the voyage?"

Hvitserk laughed and his consideration wandered from them to her. His iridescent sapphire blue irises almost leapt from their sockets. "How far south did you raid, brother?" He questioned, while running his gaze up then down her and back again.

Curious, Ubbe tracked his brother's stupefied stare back to her. When his gaze crashed landed on her, he stepped around Bjorn to invade her personal space. Once he towered over her, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. He then lifted the digit to his face for inspection.

"I assure you, it doesn't rub off," Bonnie said, before reaching up to do the same to him. When she inspected her thumb, she frowned down at the dirt on the pad of her finger. "But I see that yours does." She lifted her finger for him to see.

Ubbe's scrutiny snapped back to her face and doubled in its intensity.

"Where will you be placing her to serve, Bjorn?" He demanded

"She's not a thrall," Guthrum corrected, "she's a sacred friend to the family."

"What?!" Ubbe and Hvitserk questioned in unison.

"Guthrum speaks the truth," Bjorn cosigned, while inserting himself between them in order to address Ubbe and Hvitserk face to face, "Bonnie is a free woman and has my sworn vow of protection. Fear not, however," He pointedly glanced back at the blonde-haired, blue-eyed slave girl who pleaded to have her thrown in the sea to please the gods. She in turn cast her gaze downward and feigned modesty. "I have secured a wealth of suitable thralls to add to the great hall, stables, and trading block." Ubbe and Hvitserk exchanged smirks. "Now come, let us make our way back to the keep. I'm in need of a meal and rest."

****

Bonnie glanced the one room shack. Like on television there wasn't much to the small space. There was hardly any room for Bjorn and his family. Where in the hell did he expect her to sleep? Her gaze moved to the only bed in the home. A pair of hands grasped her shoulders.

"My uncle Rollo has a keep only a few paces from here. My plans are to restore it so you may reside there," Bjorn whispered next to her ear, answering her unasked question as if he had real time Shade Room updates to her thoughts. "It should be complete before we sail for the Mediterranean."

A smile trembled across her lips. "You want me at your side when you sail for the Mediterranean?"

"Of course," Bjorn crowded her into a corner and lowered his voice, "There is a great truth I am with haste coming to realize."

"And that is?" She questioned, while noticing Torvi side-eying the hell out of them.

"There is not a moment when I do not long to have you at my side," he answered.

"And when did you have time to come to this conclusion in the three days of knowing me?" Bonnie scoffed. "Bjorn, I have yet to leave your side so how can you long for something you never had to miss." She inhaled and dropped her head to exhale. She needed a moment to mentally check herself. The angst gnawing at her chest had nothing to do with Bjorn and everything to do with the 21st century Viking she may or may not have left behind. "Look, this isn't what you think it is, trust me." She placed a hand on his chest. "You're just in the throes of a fleeting infatuation."

"You doubt my words?" He demanded stepping impossibly closer. The press of his hard body, pounding of his heart, and the unyielding steel hanging midway down his thigh spoke major fuckery about his earnestness.

"Never, I'm just skeptical about the longevity of their sincerity," she admitted, "Especially, when physical consummation isn't forthcoming. I meant what I said, Bjorn Lothbrok! I refuse to be your mistress. I won't do that to Torvi."

A knock sounded on the door, cutting off anything further he had to say. Torvi rushed over to answer it. Soon after in walked Sigurd. Aggravation provoked the muscle in Bjorn's jaw to twitch but despite his irritation he turned to greet his brother.

In three strides he crossed the room and embraced Bjorn. Sigurd eyed her over Bjorn's shoulder. "By the gods Hvitserk did speak the truth. You are in possession of a maiden who is cloaked in twilight even in the sunlight. Is she that pigmentation all over, brother?"

"I can assure you, young Sigurd, Ironside wouldn't be able to tell you one way or the other," Bonnie snapped.

Sigurd scoffed. "Young Sigurd? The brazenness of you! I'll wager you've yet to greet your sixteenth summer! You barely have the look of a girl who's one and five."

She tossed her head back and laughed at his flattery which bordered on absurdity. "You're sweet, but I haven't seen sixteen in eleven summers."

"Impossible," Sigurd spat as if he were on the verge of calling her a damn lie.

"Well you know what they say about black," She shrugged as she glanced down. Guthrum and Hali appeared to be hanging onto every syllable of her words. Introducing a set of stereotypes to a race of people who'd yet to form an opinion about her race of people wouldn't be a good look.

"No, what do they say," Sigurd demanded.

Her gaze rose to meet his. "They say nothing, and why're you so pressed to know my age anyway, Viking? Don't you know it's bad form to question a woman about the amount of summers she's seen?"

Torvi released a cough that sounded suspiciously like a chortle.

Bjorn leveled them with a not here for it expression before returning his attention back to Sigurd. "Why are you here, Sigurd?"

"My mother has prepared a great feast in your honor. She requests you bring your family and your..." his gaze moved over Bonnie as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, "charge for an eve of merriment." He stepped around Bjorn to loom over her, "Name yourself."

"She is Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls," Guthrum answered.

Bjorn turned Sigurd towards the door. "Inform your mother that my family, charge, and I shall attend. Now seek out your leave so we may be rested for whatever Aslaug has planned."

[gloriafc]

Paul imprinting on Bella's older cousin

You were reluctant to follow your younger cousin, but you promised your uncle you'd watch over her when she went into her depressive state.

Of course he trusted you with her clumsy self since you're a surgeon and can fix up any of her bumps and bruises.

"Bella I get he's your best friend but do you think this is the best idea?" "You don't get it Y/N. You wouldn't understand. He's all I have left."

You start to worry when you see a buff guy carrying your cousin into the Emergency room.

"Y/N you don't have to worry, Jacob was there. I'm fine." "Does this look fine to you Bella. You show up in the ER with a cut half the size of your forehead. You have your dad worried everyday, and we can all tell something is going on with you. And now you're crashing motorcycles. Yeah that looks perfectly fine to me."

Of course Bella constantly shows up at your house to ensure you won't tell her dad about the bikes. She goes as far as dragging you with her and her now different looking best friend on your day off. They both drag you to a small house where a couple of boys start teasing Jake. A female catches your eye, she moves to hug Bella before turning to you, making you notice everyone staring especially one guy.

“Hi, I’m Emily.” “Y/N” “Bella’s cousin right? Jake told us about you.”

Emily quickly pulls you in, becoming quick friends.  You find yourself heading over to gossip often, Bella going with you to see Jake. Sam becoming comfortable enough having you around all the time because it makes Emily happy.

Of course since you’re around all the time you’ve gotten to know everyone else well enough. You’ve had dinner with them enough times to think of them as friends.

With time everyone tells you about the pack and about the imprint, one of the main reasons is because the Cullens are back and they worry something could happen to you.

“Wait how is that possible?” “Y/N I know it the whole imprint process can be confusing.” “No not that. I spent years studying anatomy and you just told me your bones move and shift on their own and you turn into giant dogs. How is that possible?”

Of course you take the time to talk about the imprint. At first you find it weird that Paul is only 19 and you’re 24. But eventually you get over it. And start a relationship with him.

The entire pack actually find it interesting when they find out new things about you. In turn they let you study their wolves where you slowly become their in-home nurse. Re-breaking and setting any bones they break when they fight each other.

“Wait so you’re like a genius?” “...” “Stop looking at the medical magazine and answer me!” “Jared. I will break all of your ribs and let them set wrong. Yes I’m a genius, I graduated medical school at 17. I’m twenty-four and Chief of Trauma with a photographic memory. Any more questions about how smart I am?” “Can you help me with my science homework?” 

Eventually you learn about the Cullens being vampires, and you quickly grow past it knowing Carlisle as your mentor before he left.

Paul finds himself at your house often, not wanting to go home. He loves watching how calm you look while studying or talking about surgery in general. You know he doesn’t fully understand but you appreciate the fact that he listens more than any boyfriend you’ve had before.

Your relationship is filled with constant teasing.

"Babe you need to grow. The whole bed on the floor thing is not working for me." "Then go sleep somewhere else." "Why do you hate me?!" "You're a pain in my ass." "In my defense it's a nice ass."

Sometimes you forget he’s five years younger than you. You often find yourself asking him to stay the night knowing he doesn’t want to go home anyways. The two of you will stay up talking about his problems at home, the way he talks makes him seem so much older with everything his dad has made him deal with.

You slowly find yourself falling in love with everything about him, even his short temper.

You're the first one to say I love you. Shortly after Paul admits he's wanted to say it for a while but never knew how you felt since you have a different mentality about relationships, being older and all.

"Babe I love you and everything but if you touch me with your cold doctor hands again I'll stick you in the furnace."

Jared constantly teases you about being out of Paul's league to get a rise out of him.

"Hey Y/N if your last boyfriend was a surgeon, what made you fall for this flea bag?"

Paul occasionally brings you lunch when you’ve been busier at work, reminding you to take a break so you don’t over work yourself.

Of course when the colder months start to come you’re always at work so you don’t go around as often, resulting in some of the newer pack members not knowing who you are. You end up meeting them when Emily gets into a car accident, a car sliding on the ice into hers. Since you're there to ID her the nurses quickly call Sam down resulting in the whole pack and tribal council sitting in the waiting room as you perform her surgery. When everything is done and she's stable you make your way down to the waiting room, Paul and Sam are the first ones standing. You can just see all the stress on Sam's face.

"Is she okay?" "She had multiple blows to her head from her car flipping. Broken ribs and a broken leg. She's stable right now, we put her into a medically induced coma to help her heal without extra stress, we'll wake her up in a couple days. She'll probably have a slight case of amnesia but it should wear off shortly after waking up. She'll be fine."

Sam quickly pulls you into a bone crushing hug whispering thank you into your ear. Hearing his voice crack brings tears to your eyes once you remember you just operated on one of your best friends.

You manage to pull some strings and Emily is put into a bigger room so multiple people can see her at once, knowing she enjoys being around everyone. Once you see Sam start to cry at the sight of her sleeping all bandaged up you quickly leave the room with tears in your eyes. You make it down the hallway before you have to lean against the wall, tears streaming down your face and unable to breathe. You quickly feel arms wrap around you making you turn and grip Paul's shirt as you slowly feel yourself loose control of your emotions.

"It's okay. She's okay. You saved her." "She looked so bad." "She probably did. But because of you she's alive." "She almost died on that table. She almost died and it would've been my fault if she didn't make it." "Don't think that. Don't think about her dying. And don't think about it being your fault. You were here and you did your job. You're not the person who crashed into her car. You're the one who brought her back to us."

You're the person who takes her out of her coma. Of course the entire pack is there. Her entire room filled with flowers, balloons, and cards.

When she wakes up she cries when she sees your face. At first you think she's going into shock but she just grabs you pulling you into a hug.

"I remember going in and out of consciousness. I remember seeing you. I could hear you telling the nurses to call Sam and a whole bunch of other doctor words. I saw you climb over me to perform CPR. You were covered in blood. My blood. When the other doctors were pushing the bed to the OR, you stayed over me the whole way. I could hear everything until they put the mask over my face." "You heard me say-" "That you wouldn't leave until you saved me."

You can't help the tears that start falling down your face as Emily pulls you into another hug.

When Emily gets discharged Paul finds himself just staying at your house. He can feel you constantly worrying and has to remind you that Sam's not letting Emily out of his sight any time soon.

Of course he starts to worry when you put yourself back into work but knows you're better when you start telling him about the stupid things people do that make them end up in the hospital.

When everything starts to go back to normal Paul feels himself relax when you come around more. He loves watching you talk with Emily as you cook, or sewing the boys last pairs of shorts.

"I swear this is the last time I'm sewing your shorts. I didn't go to medical school to work as your seamstress." "But you're so good at sewing." "I sew skin all day, what do you expect."

Eventually as your relationship progresses with Paul everyone finds that his anger has simmered down a ton. What no one knows is that Paul actually proposed, without a ring but it's the thought that counts. Yeah it's really early, especially for someone his age but you couldn't be happier, and you both agreed to wait for an appropriate time to get married even if that meant years.

Eventually you just flat out ask Paul to move in.

"Are you positive?" "Paul were engaged and all your stuff is practically here, except for the shirts I don't believe you actually own."

Of course you realize that having him live with you results in a ton of sex and constant naked cuddles. You honestly don't even have a need for blankets at this point, you sleep next to a space heater anyways.

Because you saved her life Emily names her and Sam's first kid after you.

"This is Monica Y/M/N Uley."

Eventually Paul saved up the money and got you the perfect ring.

"Is this why you've been working those odd jobs and weird shifts." "You know I had to get you the best, and it wouldn't be the best if I didn't do the work to get it."

Of course all of your close friends are furious you two didn't tell them you were engaged sooner.

"Did he just propose? That's so cute." "No we've been engaged for months now Emily." "And you're just telling me?! I'm skinning that boy alive next time I see him." "Please don't. I kind of need him alive for the next eighteen years." "You're pregnant too?!"

Since Emily's the only one who knows you're pregnant she helps you plan to tell Paul. She may or may not have stolen a whole bunch of pregnancy tests from the hospital with your help.

She makes the used tests into a bouquet that you set on the kitchen table for Paul to see when he gets home from patrol.

You sit in the living room knowing the first place Paul will go is the kitchen to make a sandwich.

"I'm home!"..."What the hell? Are these all pos-"

Before you realize what's going on you're being spun around by a very happy fiance and soon to be daddy.

[rosierocks30]

Hidden: Ch. 13

Chapter 13: Separation 

(Gilbert)

Gilbert was walking out of the ballroom. All night he had danced with noblewomen and important officials to keep himself busy from not looking at Nathaniel and that whore. It just breaks his heart that he had to stand back as the crowd cheered and praised the newly weds. There were some moments where he and his lord. No, his king glanced at him. He could tell Nathaniel was getting jealousy due to him mingling with other people. It does bring him the thrill sensation. Gilly liked getting attention especially from his lover. 

Now, watching both royal couples leaving the wedding feast to perform their matrimonial duties. The assistant decided to leave since his mood had been ruined. Gilbert was lost in his thoughts when his petite body bumped into someone else. 

“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” He realized how careless he was for not paying attention. 

“It’s alright. I should be apologizing for bumping a pretty creature such as yourself.” The figure was tall, he had blonde hair and his eyes were hazel green. Gilbert blushed at the comment from this mysterious stranger. 

“I’m curious, why are you alone? Shouldn’t you be enjoying the party?” The same man continued. 

“I’m not in the mood to be around many people.” In a way it was true. Gilly didn’t want to be around with people talking about how king and queen look perfect together. It irates him. 

“Ah I see. You look sad. Come, we can have a drink or few and you can tell me what’s bothering you.” the tall man said. 

“But don’t you want to go to the party rather than spending time with a low status person like me, my lord?” Gilbert said. This nobleman is very kind. 

The man laughed. “Oh I’m not a lord or any fancy title person. I’m just a simple man who endorses the king to help keep this island alive with resources.” The blonde man grins. Gilbert notices this man has an unfamiliar accent. 

“Sir, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where are you from? You have a strange but interesting accent.” The petite man felt his face flushed. 

“I don’t mind, gorgeous. I’m from a country called Itay, but I moved to America until now. I go wherever my men go.” The Italian man said. 

“Your men?” Gilly gave a confusing expression. 

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Alexander Di Lorenzo, Grandmaster of the Order of Templars.” Alexander grabbed Gilbert’s hand to kiss it. 

“It’s a pleasure meeting you. I’m Gilbert Fischer.” He glanced at the taller man. 

(Levi)

The assassin rode on his horse racing to the capitol. He needs to get there. Throughout his journey getting to the city, his dreams of Historia crying and pleading to save her. 

“Hang on there, Historia...I’m coming.” He mumbled. 

As hours passed, Levi had reached his destination. Before entering further to the District Plaza where the military and politically officials buildings were located, the captain tied his horse in a stable where the creature rested to eat and drink to replenish. Levi already had his gear equipment on and let the mental object grip into a building to send him flying towards the palace. 

The ODM gear had been upgraded since the battle with his uncle, Kenny Ackerman. The Scouts had started to use the new version of the gears during the Eren Jaeger attack on Marley. Levi was grateful because his gears made less noise while walking. They are still a bit heavy, but not that much before. Instead on both of his hips, they are on his back which it’s more efficient. Thank the Walls for Hange talents in making weapons as her side hobby beside fetishing over Titan science.

He made sure his hood is covering mostly his face so no one will recognize him. The raven haired man climbed on to a building then jumped onto a rooftop. Finally, he spotted the palace. His silvery grey eyes reflected from the moonlight and glared down where each of the entrance was heavily guarded. He gives props for the templars in security measurements. 

Levi knows some weak points of the palace. The perks of being the husband of the queen. Quickly, the short man went to one of the weak spots and saw the window. He uses his gear to shoot up and the small crack of the building to lift himself up. Levi leaned closer to see if anyone inside was there. Since there was no sign of anyone, Levi pulled out a small switch dagger knife to unlock the window open then he slid into the palace’s hallway. 

He glanced both ways to see anyone coming this way. Once everything was cleared, the male Ackerman quietly walked through the empty halls of the palace. He uses one of his gifts, the Eagle’s Vision. Now, the view is dark with blue and grey mixed. He skim through the walls which show the empty rooms being transparent. 

Levi remembered every detail of the palace inside and out. He knows where he was right now. Historia’s room was located on the other side of this palace. He kept walking silently to the stairs. He avoided the unfamiliar guards at every corner of the halls. He saw a big light but there were loud noises. The captain spotted the ballroom was filled with people laughing and dancing having a great fucking fantasic time. 

“Tch.” He scoffed in disgust. Nobilities and their fucking parties. In times like this, they will always make an excuse to throw parties while their nation they love so much was on the brink to collapse. 

Levi resumed moving forward to find his wife. Ugh, why does this palace have to be huge? It took more than 20 minutes to get to the wing where Historia was at. He can sense her. His titan can smell her sense very near. It was always alluring whenever she’s near him. The assassin used the vision to see a petite figure in the room. It looks like Historia. It’s a good time she’s alone. Hm, what worries him is why was this too easy? Quickly, Levi opened the doors to slide into the room then closed it. 

He heard a quiet sobbing noise. How it crushed him listening to the love of his life crying. His grey eyes turned to stared at the figure, Historia, who was on the bed hugging her legs to her chest. She had her face rested on her knees. The more Levi gets closer to her, the more he spotted very disturbing things on her. 

Historia was completely naked from head to toes. Her golden hair that smelled sunflowers were dull and disheveled. Her body looked ashy and pale. It’s like the glow that she used to carry within had been sucked out. 

“Historia?” He whispered to her. 

Historia stopped sobbing and looked up when she heard a familiar voice. “L-levi? I-is that you? Oh Walls, I’m already going crazy hearing you…”  Her shiny blue eyes are now lifeless. Levi felt his heart drop from the sight of his queen….his goddess. 

“You’re not going crazy, my sunlight. I’m here in the flesh to rescue you.” His tone was soft. He will show his soft side only to her. She’s his sun’s rays. He sat on the edge of the bed to slowly let her absorb from what she saw. 

The queen slowly crawled on the bed to get closer to Levi to see if this wasn’t an illusion. She places her shaking hand on his face to feel the familiar soft but roughness from the stumbles of his facial hair on his cheek. Still taking her time, her both hands caressing all over his face. Her heart beating fast the more excitement she realized he was here. He has come to save her. This time Historia cried for another reason. Her love is here and she’s not alone anymore. 

“Oh Walls, you are here. I fucking missed you.” Her arms wrapped around him to hold him tightly with her life. Levi holds her tightly as well. Both lovers are reunited since the uprising. How ironic they caused an uprising to place Historia on the throne and yet karma is a bitch. 

“Tch. I promise you. I will always be here and save you. I missed you so fucking much too.” He led her to sit her on his lap to hold her in a better position. Gently, he cradles her like a child. 

“I-I’m Levi...I’m sorry.. I try to stop it. I try.” She began to mumble while sobbing. Levi can feel his shirt wet from her tears and other fluid but it doesn’t matter how gross it feels because seeing her alive is all that matters. 

“Sorry for what? You have nothing to be sorry about.” He said while his hand stroked her hair softly. 

“N-no Levi...they...annulled our marriage. The High Priest annulled our marriage because our union was unfit and unholy in the eyes of the Ymir and the three goddesses.” She was trying to explain. 

“That’s fine it’s just a stupid paper. We don’t need anyone's blessing or permission. In my eyes, you’re my wife and I love you with every fiber of my being.” He looked into her soft eyes that he adores. 

“Would you still? Would you still love me if I was married off and bedded to someone else? I feel I’m not worthy of you anyone. I feel so unclean...it hurts Levi. It still hurts.” She won’t forgive herself for not being strong enough to escape the horror she had endured. 

Suddenly, Levi started to understand what she meant. He smelled the copper metallic of her blood along another scent that he despised so much. That Lord pretty boy will regret what he did to his Historia. How fucking dare he harmed her in that way? Oh when he finds him, Levi will gladly carve his body. He can feel the darkside of him when he used to live in the Underground City. The thug Levi wants to come out. He’ll let it come out soon. 

“Look at me. I love you no matter what, but you will not say or think these awful words about yourself. You’re worthy as fuck. You are so clean you’re untouchable. You’re so strong. So fucking strong than I am. You use your strength to make sure our son escapes alive. Historia, you’re the most strongest and bravest woman I fell in love with. It hurts me seeing you in pain. I will make a promise that I will keep that cunt alive for you to punish him in any form you want.” He growled low in the thought of what Nathaniel had done to his wife. Fuck, he is now number one on the top list to torture the shit out of people who crossed the line. The second is Zeke. Third, some templars. Once again Eren Jaeger got saved. He does have a weak spot for that brat. No one haven’t heard from him so far. 

“Will you? I want his body to be cut into many pieces but leave his head so everyone can watch what’s the consequence of being a traitor.” Her tone gave off a venomous vibe. 

“I will do anything that you command. I’m your shield and sword.” Levi nuzzled the top of her head. 

“You are more than just that to me. You’re my moonlight. Just like my rays of sun shine on your darkness. You maintain my light by shining my soul.” Her hand caressing his face. 

“Have you met him? Our little miracle?” Historia brought up their son. 

“I did. He’s perfect because he came from you. Atticus has your eyes.” Still his voice was low. 

“I’m glad you got the chance to meet him. I want to go see him, Levi. I missed our boy.” She continues admiring his face. 

“We will. Let’s get you out of here. I have to send him along with the Potato girl to babysit him. Levi said while gently having her stand up. 

“Where did you send our son?” This made her feel anxious. She didn’t get the chance to hold him enough. It had been killing her for being away too long from Atticus. 

“To New York. I need to send him. I won’t risk our child in a danger zone. We’ll be with him. Once we get out of here, I will send you to him. Both of you are going to be safe and I can be at peace knowing my family are far away from this hell.” He doesn’t want the same argument where she was reluctant to go alone. 

“I see. But you will come back to us? Right? Come back alive to us?” She pleaded. 

“Don’t worry. I will keep that promise.” He said. 

Levi uses his cloak to cover Historia completely. He couldn’t find any clothes for her. She had explained Nathaniel punished her for being a disobedient wife and had her naked until he saw fit in giving back her clothing privilege. God damn it, is this guy trying to meet Death? Levi was disgusted at the false king.  

He and Historia quietly left the room. They walked through the halls. What was strange? The atmosphere was silent. The palace felt dark  and cold. Levi’s instinct told him to run. To get out quickly. 

“We need to get out fast.” He told Historia. Both lovers started to run. Just when they were about to turn to the corner, they met an armed full of guards and both figures. One was that pretty boy the other was Grandmaster Di Lorenzo. 

“Oh my what do we have here? The star- crossed lovers trying to leave without a greeting.” The grandmaster said with a grin. On the other hand, Nathaniel was angry. His wife was trying to escape with that criminal. 

“How dare you filthy peasant to steal my queen. I will send you to your death immediately.” His yells sound like a madman. Luckily, Alexander was there to remind him of the plan. 

“Now now, your majesty. It would be displeasing to kill Levi Ackerman. My Order needs him. His bloodline is an essential to our years of work. I promise after we’re done with him; you may do whatever you want.” He uses his authoritative tone at Nathan. Nathaniel may be king but the real power was Alexander as the older man can dethrone him and put someone else in charge. 

Of course Nathaniel bit his tongue from trying not to say anything. Levi glared at the other man. “So who the hell are you?” Levi drew his blades, but had Historia behind him to protect her. 

“Oh how silly of me, I’m Alexander Di Lorenzo, Grandmaster of the Order of the Templars. I know you very well, Assassin or isn’t it Captain?” He chuckled in toying with Levi. 

“Tch. So you’re the main boss of the templars? My old man mentioned about you.” The grey eyed man glared at the templar. 

“Ah yes the Mentor of Assassins. William Miles has always been a pest. I see you inherit your family’s obnoxiousness.” Alexander said. 

Before Levi was about the charge at both of them, he felt a dart or two aimed on his neck. Historia screamed when she watched the darts land on Levi’s neck. The Humanity’s Strongest fell on the ground. His body became paralyzed. How could he been so stupid? It’s like all his senses have been blocked for him not to notice the danger. HIs eyes glanced at his wife who was screaming his name while being restrained by two guards.  

“Have a nice nap, assassin.” The sinister smirk of Alexander was imprinted of Levi’s vision. As darkness took over, the last thing he heard was Historia’s begging and screaming.

“Levi! LEVI!” The sound faded as quietness took over. 

(Mikasa)

Both girls had been walking to the destruction of the city of Liberio. The site was worse than what Eren caused back then. 

“Which way again is the base?” Mikasa asked. Gabi pointed at the direction. 

“It’s this way. We’re almost there.” The little girl said. Gabi had been trying to focus on getting to the military base. Most of her thoughts were about the death of her family. She prayed Reiner is fine and alive. He is her only family. 

They had fought few soldiers from the enemy lines. Mikasa worried for the girl. Gabi used her rage to shoot at them. Mikasa aimed at their fatal spots to end their lives in the quickest way. The faster they get through this, the faster they'll reach their destination. 

When they both were about to shoot another couple of soldiers, the soldiers shouted their names. “Gabi Braun! We’re not the enemies. We’re your comrades.” Their hands were up. 

Mikasa lowered her gun and whispered to the girl. “Gabi, lower your gun they are on your side.” 

Finally, Gabi lowered her weapon. She sighs as help has come for her and Mikasa. One of them asked Mikasa. 

“Hey, who are you? Are you from Hizuru?” One of them said. Mikasa raised her brow in confusion. Until she remembered where her mother’s clan originally came from. 

“No, I’m from the island of Paradis.” She spoke truthfully. The Asian woman awaits for them to shoot her. 

“A devilspawn.” This made Gabi growl in anger. “Hey! Knock it off. She’s with me. She’s not the enemy either...not anymore.” 

Mikasa nods but still has her hands up to offer peace. “I’m not here to fight or cause trouble. I’m here to help you if your superior allows it. My name is Mikasa Ackerman and-” One of the Marleyans interrupted her. 

“Wait? The Mikasa Ackerman? Our Commander gave us orders to escort you safely into our base, Ackerman.” The dark eyed Marleyan said. 

“You’re Commander? May I ask who would be your Commander that made this order?” Mikasa was curious because their commander wanted to protect her. 

“Reiner Braun, he’s our new commander of the Marleyan army. “ Both Mikasa and Gabi were surprised at this news. They are happy that Reiner was looking for them. 

“Reiner? He’s the commander?” Gabi was still processing the news. Who would ever thought her cousin got promoted to the highest ranking in their military? This is shocking for an Eldian to be promoted as such. 

Mikasa let a small smile appear on her lips from thinking about Reiner. He was always meant to be a leader. A man with internal struggles trying to do what’s right. It’s difficult to achieve but she believes he can pull it off with the right people supporting him. 

(Flashback) 

Both Mikasa and Reiner were taking a break from their insatiable rounds of love-making. Mikasa laid her head on his chest comfortably while she felt his arm wrapped around her waist to have her closer to him. 

“Who would ever thought we would be together?” Reiner said. His hand gently played with her raven hair. 

“Yeah, I’m still surprised that all this time you had a secret crush on me. You didn’t seem like that when we were novices. Didn’t you have a thing for Historia?” The Asian woman glanced at her lover. 

Reiner was off guard with that question. “No, I mean kind of…” The blonde haired man felt nervous from giving her his answer. He noticed Mikasa’s expression changed to annoyance. Her jealousy had shown which Reiner found it cute. 

“I did also like her, but she hung out with Ymir so much. Most of the guys and I were too scared to approach her. Back then, when she went by Krista; she was every guys’ ideal wife.” He said. 

Mikasa scoffed. She had heard enough. Don’t get her wrong. She loves and adores Historia. Their friendship had grown throughout the years. They may have different lives now, but once in a while they spend time together along with Sasha then later Annie joined in even though everyone was wary towards her after she woke up from her slumber. 

Something deep inside her felt an insecurity that she’s not good enough to be anyone's ideal girl. Eren definitely never had liked her romantically. Even as plutonic, he always felt annoyed by her. Yes, she can be overprotective and smothering. She does it because she cared about him. Even now she still loves him, but not in a romantic way. Eren will always be her brother. No matter what he says or thinks towards her. She doesn’t regret how she felt towards him in the beginning. At least, she had learned to love someone on an intimate level. This had helped her to be ready to open her heart for someone else like Reiner. 

Still, it bothered her that she was too “masculine” for a girl. The guys during their cadet years had ranked the girls in the academy based on looks and other qualities they wanted in a girl. It had pissed her off that the boys judged a girl based on how they should look or act. Guys can be such misogynistic pigs! 

Mikasa was hurt when she found out they ranked her last out of all the girls in the academy. Of course, she didn’t let anyone have the satisfaction to see her; it bothers her. She tried to brush it off, but there were times it bothered her that she had broken down into tears. The only guy who saw her more than was Jean Kristein. Whenever he gets the chance to remind her, she’s beautiful too. Mikasa felt this guilt that she couldn’t give him a chance too. Jean was always kind and considered which it’s different how he acts around with everyone especially to Eren. 

Since the battle at Trost, Jean slowly becomes more a leader than less of a horseface jerk. Well, the only thing it doesn’t change is between him and Eren. Besides, nobody doesn’t have the time to worry about crushes or wanting to be an ideal towards others. They are soldiers. It’s their job to fight and protect what and or they love and care so they can go back home safe and sound. These shallow thoughts were a luxury at the moment. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when Reiner’s arm wrapped around her waist to have her back pressed on to his solid chest. “Mikasa, that was long ago. At that time, I didn’t know my feelings were starting to grow more towards you whenever we got the chance to spar for training. You’re more what you seem.” She could feel his breath on her ear. His lips gently kissing on her neck and shoulder like feathers. 

“Hm, either way...I was too focused on Eren and making sure he doesn’t do anything reckless; but I failed. I failed him and his mother. He had gone into a dark and dangerous path yet he is so convinced it’s the only way. I’m sorry Reiner...I’m sorry for not knowing what his intentions were. Now, more deaths are counted.” Her face looked down. She doesn’t know why the attack on Liberio by Eren haad caused her a heavy burden of guilt and shame. Eren should be the one feeling those emotions. But as his sister, she could have stopped him. She watched innocent people getting killed. Bodies piled up. It shook her to the core. This hate was poison to everyone on this side of the world. This is why her generation must make the change for the future. All the deaths won’t die in vain. 

“Stop Mikasa. This is not your burden. You didn’t cause the attack. Eren made his choice. You can’t always protect him of his own actions. He’s not that angry kid anymore. Do you hear? It’s not your fault.” He held her tight. Mikasa shifts her body to embrace his hug. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this. This is new to me sharing my burdens to anyone.” She whispered while hugging him back. 

“I’m glad you told me. It shows you have trust in me with your pain. Also, they are not bothersome if it causes you pain. I hate how it makes you sad. You have a beautiful smile.” His thumb slowly rubbed on her bottom lip. 

Both her heart and stomach fluttered. He makes her feel she matters as a woman. Damn, she’s already feeling passed liking him, but not yet being in love. Her attraction with him was like a moth to it’s light. The more she spends time with him, the more she’ll admit to him saying those three simple words. 

The raven haired woman comfortably rested her head on his chest again once Reiner laid back on the bed dragging her along. 

“You’re my world, Mikasa Ackerman. I won’t let go of you until my dying days.” he mumbled. 

“Would it be bad of me to be scared to let you get close to me?” Her eyes stared at him. 

“No, it’s not. I understand why. We were bred to hate each other and to try to survive day by day. It is scary for us to open our hearts to someone else in a screw up world. Maybe instead of making it as our weakest; we can turn it into our strength.” He said. 

“Seriously, you have ways with words. You can give hope in people. You’re a leader. I can see in it you.” She said. 

“A leader? I don’t know...I don’t feel like I’m capable of being one.” He frowned. 

“Of course you are. I've seen you act like one whenever a situation goes down hill. You step up to take charge. I hope one day you realize that. I’m sure you’re comrades can see what I see.” Her hands cupped his face to lean into a kiss. 

“I’ll keep reminding you what you’re truly capable of as you do to me. We’re now a team.” Her tone became confident. 

Reiner smiled and kissed her lips back. “You’re the only woman who will ever be my equal in so many ways. You are my girl always.” 

(End Flashback) 

The group walked to the base. Instead, where the battle is happening; Mikasa and Gabi follow the two men to a smaller entrance. As they got in, the girls were led to a big room where a long huge table with many chairs and on top of the table was  a model of the city of Liberio. Mikasa saw Reiner discussing military related topics to few of the soldiers. 

The assassin couldn’t help stare the way he takes charge. His sleeves were rolled up so that his biceps were flexing naturally. God damn, why does he look so hot? Mikasa’s face flushed from thinking about very explicit thoughts of Reiner. Seriously, this isn’t the time to drool at whatever Reiner is to her. He did claim she’s his girl, so is she now his girlfriend? When the time is right, she will bring it up. 

She already saw Gabi run towards him to hug him tightly. Reiner turned around to embrace his cousin’s affectionate. He looked up to see Miaksa and give a warm smile. This made the Paradisian woman to shy smile back at him. The hard part of telling him about his family is coming at close. This will crush him. 

Just when she was about to walk towards him, Gabi already told him what happened because his expression became angry and grief. His body was shaking. Quickly, he steps away from Gabi to walk away to be alone. 

Mikasa was about to follow him, but Porco stopped her. “Let him be. He wants to be alone. He just lost his family you wouldn’t understand.” This triggered her. What is his problem towards her? She does understand what Reiner is going through. Porco has no right to assume what she does understand. Does he still see her as a villain? Hm, it doesn’t take a day for the long years of hatred to vanish. 

“Don’t you dare tell me what I don’t understand. He needs someone and I promise him, I’ll be there for him.” Mikasa gave her cold tone to Porco. Of course, he flinched when the notorious Ackerman glared towards him. Her shoulder shrugged off from his hand to head towards where Reiner went. The Jaw Titan holder was about to say something, but Annie beat into it. 

“Let her go to him. Reiner does need someone right now, especially her.” Annie was behind Porco who turned around to glance at the Female Titan holder. 

“He doesn’t like when people check up on him.” He said. 

“True, Reiner hates to let people in; but with Mikasa it's different. She’s the only one he’ll drop his wall.” Annie knew during their mission pretending to be cadets; she had caught Reiner staring at Mikasa. That's it too obvious he felt something for her. Heck she was also aware Bertholdt took a sneak peak at her. If only, she had the courage to walk up to Bertholdt and tell him that she also liked him. It’s too late now. She has Armin and it made her happy. 

Annie left an contemplative Porco as she goes back to her boyfriend who was busy making contact to the Mentor to suggest forming an alliance with Marley in fighting against the Templars. 

Mikasa found Reiner in another room where he was sitting on a bed. She noticed there were frames with pictures on the nightstands. She entered. “Reiner-” 

“Please Mikasa...go away.” he said in sorrow. His heart is broken from the news of his family’s death. 

Mikasa frowned instead of leaving him, she went towards him. Reiner heard her footsteps. He sighed and glanced up. Already, she’s in front of him. “Mikasa, I’m serious. I need to be alone.” 

“Don’t lie to me. I know you need me right now. You don’t need to hide anything from me. I know what you're going through. Trust me, it's the most agonizing feeling I don't ever want anyone to feel.” She stubbornly stayed. 

“Then you understand that I want to be alone.” Now, his stubbornness showed. 

“Do you? Do you really want me to leave you alone and face your grief by yourself?” Mikasa was being persistent. For a while, he didn’t reply. She doesn’t want to leave him there dealing alone, but if this is what helps him. She begrudgingly turned around to leave. 

Reiner finally spoke up. “Wait. P-please. D-don’t go….you’re right. I don’t want to be alone. Mikasa, m-my family are gone. Gabi will have no one after I die. I don’t know what to do?” The female assassin felt her heart squeezed from seeing his cry for help. It’s like watching the small boy in him scared of feeling alone in this world. She sat next to him and held him to comfort. 

“Shhh it’s ok baby. I understand the feeling, but you’re not alone; not anymore. Gabi will never be alone either. Once you pass away, I will raise her. I promised your mother and now I'm promising to you.” She whispered to him. Her shoulder is wet from his tears. She wants to take away his pain. He is just a soul like her. 

“You met my mother?” He looked at her. Mikasa nodded and gave a warm smile. “I have. She’s told me to take care of you. I guess you had told me a bit more huh?” she chuckled. “You weren’t kidding about her being insistent of wanting grandchildren. I told her I promise, I will give her one.” Her finger wiping away his tears. 

“Mikasa, you don’t have to keep that promise. Just being with you has already made me happy.” he whispered. 

“Reiner, I still want kids...especially you being the father. Hopefully, faith will bless us with one at least. We are already a family. You, Gabi, and me are family. Do me a favor? Don’t ever shut me out. We’re a team; remember? Grief all you want right now. I’ll go tell everyone they need a minute or more alone time to process.” Mikasa was about to get up but Reiner had moved her to his lap to cuddle her.

“Thank you Mikasa. Thank you for existing. You really are a gift to the world. You’re kind, caring, compassionate. You don’t hate others. You’re strong minded; not just physical too. I don’t know what I will do without you.” He felt grateful that Mikasa came back into his life. “Can we stay like this a bit longer?” She can feel his inner child coming out. 

“Of course, we can stay here a bit more.” She kissed his forehead affectionately. She will make sure this war will end so Reiner can enjoy his months on earth peacefully and Gabi can take back her childhood that was stolen. Beside her friends and her blood family, Levi; Reiner and Gabi are her new family. 

(Armin)

Armin was using an advanced device to communicate with William Miles. He remembered what it was called; a smart phone. 

“Sir, I think this alliance will benefit us to defeat the templars. Also, once the war is over; with our help to win; the rest of the nations will be open for peace with the people of Paradis.” Armin was convincing his mentor about this idea. 

“Hmm will they be willing to make this alliance happen? While you and Annie had left New York City on an important mission; Paradis was also under attack by the templars and dethroned Queen Historia as the rightful ruler. She gave birth to a baby boy which thank god she was enough to have him sneak out into our care. Right now, Sasha is his guardian on their way to New York. Levi left on his own to rescue her. This isn’t like him to be impulsive, but I can understand why he did it. I’m worried he hasn’t returned. Hange and I are trying to find an escape route for everyone here.” On the screen Williams was stressing from the events that happened. 

“Sir, I can try to get into contact with the Ambassador Azumabito of Hizuru. She can help to find a route for you guys to escape. I’ll give her an update on what has been going on.” He said. 

“Alright, Armin. You do that and let me know what she said. We couldn’t find both Commanders Nile Dok and Rico Brzenska of the Military Police and Garrison. We got information that Premier Pixis Dot is their prisoner along with some other higher officials and a few noble families who support her majesty, Historia.” Miles said. 

Armin grunt his teeth. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They had calculated wrong. Now, Captain Levi left in time of their needs. Everything's in disorder. 

“Should we try to rescue the Premier and the noble families?” Armin suggested. 

“We don’t have enough resources. We can try to find both Commanders and unite all three regiments to figure out a way to win this war and take back the island.” The Mentor said. 

Armin nodded in understanding what William said. “I see. If you want, I think I know someone who will help us to look for them.” 

Will raised his brow curiously. “Is this person an ally we can trust?” In times like this, it’s difficult to trust anyone. 

“Yes, sir. He had been in contact with me. He wanted to help change the world...the right way.” Armin was a bit anxious on how the Mentor would react along his friends. 

“Who is this ally that can help us?” Bill asked. 

“My old friend, Eren Jaeger.” Armin finally said it. 

(Eren)

The dark haired titan holder was walking on a dirt road leaving the town of Trost. His face was mostly covered by his hood to conceal his identity. Eren Jaeger glanced back where the city limit of Trost stood ahead. 

Eve...

He can’t believe the terrible things he had said to her. The way her eyes stared at him in disbelief. The Eldian man felt disgust at himself for hurting the woman he had grown to love. She was everything that he never thought he needed. A part of him wanted to go run back to her and beg for her forgiveness. No, he can’t. It’s better this way. 

During his time with Eve, Eren had reached out Armin by letters. At first, his old friend was wary towards him. He doesn’t blame Armin since his betrayal had made a negative impact on his old comrades and friends. He had hurted Mikasa in so many ways. He may not share the same feelings as her but she is his sister. He will always love her as her brother who had saved her when they were kids. Armin had been like another sibling to him. Eren felt if they hated him it would be easier to go through the Path of awakening the Rumble. 

When Eve came into his life, his mission and perspective slowly changed. He struggled if all this was worth it? Will it be worth it? What if it gets worse and he loses everything. He can’t lose more people that he loves and cares so much. Maybe there is another way but he was too blind to see it. That’s why contacting Armin was the first step to fix his errors. 

Eren was grateful that Armin had a good heart and gave another chance. His blonde haired friend warned it’s not best to reach out to Mikasa yet. She still felt hurt on how Eren had treated her which it’s understandable.  

Through the letters, Armin gave him an update on what had been happening. What crushed Eren was his older brother, allied with these groups called themselves The Order of Templars. What was strange? The same woman in his dream, Minerva warned him about these people. 

He also found out that the government along Historia were overthrown. These templars replace a new ruler who’s Lord Nathaniel Evans. Eren heard of the nobleman before. In his opinion, he dislikes this nobleman. Humans like him made the world cruel for good people like his parents, and many more. That’s all Eren wanted. A world where people can worry small things like getting their work done by the end of the day or enjoying being with the person you’re in love with. Those are luxurious for anyone in this part of the world. 

Ever since his brother, Zeke had joined with these templars; Eren had made his decision to distance himself away from his brother and the followers. To be honest, he had found them annoying. He used them to go through his plans, but their paths had changed. So his plans had changed too. 

He needs to reach another town to send a letter to Armin. The last letter from his friend had mentioned asking for his help. Of course, Eren would gladly help his friend since he wants to be in his good grace along with everyone. 

Hours had passed from leaving Trost. The green eyed man felt his stomach growls. Huh? Is it already supper? He had missed lunch and breakfast since he lost his appetite from leaving Eve. Her warmth presence had melted away from the years of pain and anger at the world. She had taught him the world doesn’t have to be cruel if you do let it be cruel. He chuckled at that thought and closed his eyes from remembering that conversation. 

(Flashback)

“Where would you take me if I go with you?” Eren was comfortably laying on the bed with Eve. 

“Hm, all over the world!” She said with enthusiasm. Eve nuzzled on his chest as just cuddling him made her smile brighter. Eren loves seeing her happy. 

“Alright then.” He chuckled. “...but where to first?” He asked her with curiosity. 

“To Egypt first, then we’ll go from there to see many cultures, sites, and try the local foods. So you better leave some room on your stomach ok.” The brunette teased him by poking on his stomach which they’re solid from his abs. 

“Oh have you been there?” He wondered how many places she has been to? 

“Yeah, a few times for my internship. I am a student at the university I attend. I am double majoring in Ancient Civilization History and Culture Anthropology.” She said. 

“Wow, you must be smart or wealthy to have an education like that.” Eren was impressed. 

“You can say in a way I’m smart and as being wealthy; no. My grandmother on my mom's side is wealthy. She’s the one who paid my tuition. I won’t inherit anything until she passes away which I hope she lives a bit longer…” Her tone became sad when she mentioned her grandmother. 

“What’s wrong with your grandmother?” He asked in a concerning tone. 

“She was diagnosed with a fatal illness five years ago. She had been strong to fight it; but before I came here, the same disease came back again and I have been taking care of her. I’m her only family she ever has. My mom died when I was very young from a terrible tragedy. I don’t think I want to talk about it. It still gives me nightmares. Let's just say I was the only survivor.” He can relate the pain of losing a mother. Eren still has those nightmares of his mother getting eaten by the titan.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did she pass away?”  He added. 

“Not yet, but I wish she would because all it does is make her suffer. She was always in pain. I hope I get to see her again before it’s too late…” He can see her tears forming. 

“You should do that. Go to her before you would regret it not going sooner.” Eren said. 

Eve sighs. “If I could, I would. It’s just hard to go see her now.” Her tone sounded vague the way her response was to him. “Can we change a different topic?” She said. Eren nodded. 

“Then what would be the last stop on our journey in seeing the whole world?” He gave a smile in letting her know her request was his command. 

“My hometown.” Eve gave a small smile. 

“And where would that be? This place is called New York CIty?” He remembered she had mentioned before.   

“No, but we can also visit there too. New York is where I had lived since I was 12. My hometown is on a different island. Ha’ena on the island of Kauai of the Hawaiian State is where I was born and raised until age of 4. It’s full of lush green mountains. It’s more like a tropical jungle when you hike there. There are many cascading waterfalls and the beaches are clear white sands along the water crystal clear transparent blue. Basically it’s a true paradise. I get it why my parents had settled there when they just got married.” The way her eyes lit when she described her home; Eren wants to see this haven place. Hopefully, one day.  

“We’ll go there after I finish my business. Just me and you.” He pulled her closer to nuzzle his nose on her neck which she began to giggle from how ticklish.

“Eren your nose is tickling me.” She continued laughing. He smirked. “Oh am I? Then I will tickle you more.” This time he uses his fingers to tickle her sides while making a nom nom sound on her neck with his lips. Both laugh and enjoy their little game. 

(End Flashback)

He had already reached another town. Eren went to a post center and before he slipped the letter into the box, a hand was placed on his shoulder. The titan holder was alarmed and removed it from his shoulder as he turned to face his opponent.

“Are you Eren Jaeger?” A  man with foregin accent said to him. The dark haired man raised his brow. 

“Do I know you?” His tone was cautious. Eren doesn’t trust strangers easily. 

“No, but your friend Armin had mentioned about you and your help to us.” Now Eren slowly dropped his guard. He looks around in case someone was eavesdropping. 

“Let’s go somewhere safe to talk.” He said. The man with a hood nodded in agreement then both walked to a safe location. Once they get comfortable talking, Eren begins to speak freely. 

“You must be an assassin that most of my old friends had joined.” He said. 

“Yes, I’m an assassin. My mentor had sent me to you to help out find the two Commanders. If we’re lucky, we might find the rest of the garrison and military police regiments.” The assassin explained to Eren. 

“Alright, but we’ll need very good disguises. I’m very noticeable and it seems you are too.” He said. 

“Let me introduce myself since it’s rude of me if you don't know my name. My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton or Connor Kenway as what people prefer to call me by.” The mysterious assassin said. 

(Levi) 

Slowly, his eyes open to see the room white and so bright that he could go blind soon. “Damn it why is this strange place so fucking bright?” He groaned. Seriously, can they lower it? Fuck, his head is throbbing loud.

“Ah good evening Levi Ackerman. I’m Davos Andersen, the head scientist of the Animus Program.” Dr. Andersen introduced himself. 

Levi glared at the scientist. He was about to attack him, but something very hard and metallic restrained him from moving on both his wrists and ankles. Levi feels the cold hard surface table he was laying on it. Over his head where its level on his eyes, a clear glass like hovers too closely for his liking. 

“Where am I? What did you bastards do to me? Where’s my wife, Historia? If you fucking hurt her you piece of shits; I will gut you with my blades.” Levi is trying to wiggle while threatening at the scientist and his crew. Most of the crew stepped back in fear which satisfied him. Good, they better be scared.  

“Please, Mr. Ackerman. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't scare my coworkers. They are just doing their job. As for your wife, I think you’re confused. Historia is the king’s wife. Anyways, you’re in an animus room which we built here in the dungeon area. We just put you to sleep to make sure you don’t escape or try to slaughter us. Mr. Jaeger had warned us how dangerous you  and your bloodline from your matrilineal side are. Today, this is very exciting. This machine will show your DNA memories of your ancestors. Since we have enough data from your assassin’s bloodline through your grandfather, your deceased uncle, Desmond Miles. We can look it up later since my boss wants to know more about this Ackerman bloodline. Are you ready for this exciting adventure?” His light blue eyes sparkled. 

Is this guy for real? He better not make him as a science subject like when Four-Eyes made Eren as one for Titan science. 

“No, I’m fucking not!” He growls as his eyes glow silver. Everyone felt jumpy when they saw his eyes. The scientist jumped too but giggled with excitement. Holy shit, this guy is like the male version of Hange when she gets too excited with anything titan related. 

“Oh my, you are such a majestic creature.” Davos grinned. 

“Shut up you fucking human! Once I break away, I will galdy rip you into pieces and devour you. I’m a titan, superior to you lowly humans.” Iapetus came out to take control. He had enough of these weaklings. 

“Gale, right down this observation. We’re going to have a field day.” The scientist whispered at his coworker. In the background, Iapetus growls animalistic. These metal cuffs were hard to break. They were made especially for him. 

“Alright, Levi we’ll begin the data so have a great time on your adventure.” Before Iapetus/Levi say anything, their view becomes dark again until a disembodied voice is heard. 

Welcome to the Animus Project. New DNA. Levi Ackerman aka Subject 18. Activate. 

A/N: I’m just gonna leave it like that for the next chapter lol. I know I know, once again I’m cruel because Levi and Historia finally were reunited but that was short as they got separated again. But there are sweet moments from my other favorite ship, Reikasa. Finally, we have some Armin in it and Annie. There will be more of them in future chapters. Yes, Connor Kenway had made his appearance which there will be more details how and why he’s there in the modern time. Eren had slowly acknowledged that his plan was not a good idea. How will his former comrades take once they find out he joined on their side. Levi has finally become Abstergo's latest subject. I’m happy from the reviews I received from AO3 and Fanfiction. You guys always made my day. For those who kudos, thank you. This made my heart happy. All of you are amazing for your support in so many ways. I hope this new chapter will satisfy you until the next one. See you later  until next time!

[endlessstairway]

FREE BOOK! Prince for Sale

My book “Prince to Sale” is free on amazon this weekend!

mybook.to/PrinceforSale

(Excerpt from Chapter One under the cut)

Not this bullshit again, David thought to himself. He ignored the kneeling figure in his bedroom and carried on to the bathroom. He was tired, and he needed a shower and to feel human again before he would trust himself to deal with Vell.

An even more appealing idea was a shower, a stiff drink and for Vell to be gone when he came back, but that wasn’t going to happen. The alien had been in David’s New York penthouse for five days now, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

David took his time in the shower. He ignored the guilt churning in his belly, provoked by the fact that Vell was still waiting for him, kneeling in his underwear, entirely at his mercy. David might have a little more of such mercy if he knew what the hell was going on.

David cleaned his teeth, even flossing, knowing he was lingering too long at the task. Eventually, he ran out of excuses not to leave the bathroom.

Vell was still there. David folded his arms over his soft pajama shirt and glared at him. Prince Vell. Second son of King Covl of Otharn. Commander of the Armies of the Void. Earth’s first alien invader. Whatever he used to be, whatever titles he used to have, he wasn’t that anymore. Now he was an almost naked slave with a gem-studded metal collar around his neck, kneeling before his master. Waiting to be of use.

David shuddered at the thought. He didn’t want any of this. He certainly didn’t want Vell in his bedroom, or even in his home at all. He should be back on Otharn, where his brother, Prince Lonn, had taken him after his defeat on Earth, promising the joint human forces that Vell would be treated for his madness and would be no further threat to the humans.

Some treatment, David thought. Vell had clearly been abused in the two years since they had met in battle. He was no longer the proud, confident commander with wild eyes and a superior smirk. He was thin, malnourished, broken. His ribs showed under fragile skin, bruises bloomed on his flesh, and his back was a mess of lash marks in various stages of healing.

More than his physical condition, Vell’s behavior told his story. He had not spoken a word since arriving, he flinched away from contact, he had not looked David full in the face, he kept his head down. He dropped to his knees at the slightest provocation, as though afraid of punishment.

And there was this nightly display. David sighed and sat on the bed. He had tried to stop it. He had told Vell not to do it, he had yelled at him, he had even locked him out of the room. Despite that, each evening Vell slunk away and presented himself, stripped and submissive, in the master bedroom. David mentally cursed Lonn for leaving his brother there with little information and no clue when he would return.

David thought back to the night the previous week when Lonn had appeared. Lonn’s usually tidy crystal portal had been vibrating wildly, bursting too soon and dumping the brothers out on the ground. Lonn had been bloody, sweaty, his golden spear clutched in his hand. Vell had been unconscious.

Frantic, Lonn had grabbed David’s shoulder, called him shield-brother and pierced him with his electric blue gaze.

“My friend,” he had said, “I must ask of you this favor. My brother Vell needs sanctuary. He has been most grievously mistreated, and I must right this wrong. He will cause you no trouble — he is enthralled.”

David had taken note of Lonn’s bloody spear, his trembling hand, his battered armor, and he had agreed. He and Lonn were friends, it was true, but David never quite forgot that Lonn was an alien prince with the strength of ten men, who controlled arcane powers that David didn’t yet understand. It was wise to agree. Lonn had embraced him in gratitude, smearing his clothes with soot and blood, said he had to return to finish what he had started with the Vaaladir, and was gone. He had left Vell, and David had groaned and dragged him to a room that locked from the outside. Lonn had not explained what enthralled meant, who the Vaaladir were, or when he would return.

David had expected Vell to cause trouble when he woke up. To be arrogant, demanding, to try to escape from the room — but he had done none of that. He had simply knelt on the floor and waited.

Lively, David’s crystal-powered AI, constantly monitored the room, but Vell had not done anything alarming. He had not done anything else at all that whole day. David’s knees ached every time he looked at the screen, as hour after hour passed with no movement from the alien. It was not until evening that Vell had finally collapsed on the floor and lain there, twitching.

Lively had her energy cannons charged but still hidden in their ceiling mounts when David went into the room to check on Vell. He trusted Lonn, but he certainly did not trust his brother.

But there had been no trick; Vell was unconscious again. The only change about him was that the gems on his collar were glowing a sickly yellow. David had had no idea what to make of that, so he left a tray of food, a bottle of water and locked the door again.

To David’s shame, it was Lively who had realized that the yellow glowing of the collar was painful for Vell — that it was a punishment. It happened when he could no longer hold his kneeling position on the floor, and once when David, in his frustration, yelled at him to answer his questions. Lively’s calm voice informed David that the yellow light corresponded to Vell’s elevated heart rate and neural activity indicating high levels of pain. David did not raise his voice after that, but he did not know how to stop the punishments otherwise.

Two days passed before David let Vell out of the room. He had spent that entire time either kneeling on the floor or sprawled out on the rug. David’s conviction grew that, whatever had happened to Vell since they had met in battle, he was not the same person. But still, David was no fool, and he gave Vell a demonstration of the capabilities of Lively’s cannons before allowing him into the penthouse. The last thing David had expected was this nightly half-naked display of submission, and he wanted it to stop.

David rubbed his face and smoothed his tousled hair back into some semblance of order. He was tired and frustrated. “You know, this would be a lot easier if you would talk to me,” he said.

He didn’t expect a reply, and he didn’t get one: Vell had not spoken a single word since his arrival. The man on the floor tried to control his flinch at David’s harsh tone, but he could not hide the trembling of his hands, clasped behind his back. Every day he got paler, thinner. He barely slept, and David never saw him eat. He was wasting away.

David sighed. It wasn’t as though he didn’t understand. There was only one reason Vell would be kneeling, practically naked, next to David’s bed. But he wasn’t about to try the obvious option. If nothing else, Lonn would probably kill him, shield brothers or not.

“Go to your bedroom, Vell,” he said, wanting to be done with this charade for another night. Vell usually obeyed orders, but this time, as he tried to stand, the gems in the collar glowed yellow again. David watched, horrified, as Vell stumbled and fell back to the floor, his back arching, his whole body shaking.

“No!” David grabbed Vell’s shoulder to steady him, unsure what to do, “Enough! Stop!” he yelled. To his surprise, the glow subsided, leaving Vell shaking and gasping on the floor.

“Vell, are you OK?” David asked, concerned. The man might have tried to kill him and invade his planet, but right now he was suffering, and David was not a monster.

Vell’s eyes opened, and as soon as he was able to focus, he seemed to realize where he was. He scrambled back onto his knees and pressed his hands and forehead to the floor. He cringed away from David as though expecting further punishment.

“Hey, it’s OK,” David reassured him. “That wasn’t me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

No response.

David wracked his brain. He couldn’t send Vell away without torturing him, but he was certainly not going to take him up on his obviously coerced offer either. Vell may be presenting himself to David, but he was being forced into it by the torture-collar locked around his neck. David may be something of an asshole, but not enough to take advantage of that.

Instead, he sat on the floor next to Vell’s hunched form.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked the air. He reached out and gently patted Vell’s shoulder, hoping the gesture would be comforting. He realized too late that any physical contact could be misread in this situation and withdrew his hand. He doubted Vell would want his touch, and if he wasn’t able to say so, it was up to David to control himself.

But David was exhausted. He had been working non-stop for months, studying the crystals that enabled humans to open portals and travel between worlds. He needed to create stable portals, not the short-lived little gateways he had been able to sustain until now. He knew it was possible; Vell had created a huge one when he brought through his Void army. If crazy-ass here could do it, David knew he could, too. He yawned. His judgement was impaired by tiredness, and nothing was going to get resolved tonight. They both needed to sleep. He pulled a pillow off his bed and tossed it in the corner.

“You. Sleep there,” he said, in his best commanding voice.

He watched, intrigued, as Vell crawled over to the corner on his hands and knees. The gems didn’t light up. David supposed this did not count as being sent away. After all, if he was in the corner of David’s room, Vell still could be called upon should David have any sudden need for him in the night.

Vell curled up on the floor, his head on the pillow. He was asleep almost immediately, his hair over his face, his knees pulled up defensively. He looked almost peaceful. Much more so that when he had tossed and turned all night in the guest room. David pulled a blanket off the bed. He draped it over Vell’s sleeping form, hiding his too-thin body, and the scattered evidence of abuse.

His prisoner was asleep, and David would be damned if he would be chased out of his own bedroom.

“Liv, keep your guns charged, and wake me up if he does anything,” he said.

Lively had the entire penthouse under constant surveillance, and as powerful as her crystal-powered energy cannons were, she had a few more tricks up her sleeve that David wouldn’t mind testing. Taking a last look around, David got under the covers, and fell asleep to the sound of Vell’s breathing.

******

Get the full book for free until 5/19/20 mybook.to/PrinceforSale

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 15/?

May I? - 15/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Screenshot by @ geekygwen

At first, Data did not realize he yelled. The noise was ripped from him so suddenly that it took him by surprise. But he could not dwell on the sudden outburst. He needed to act quickly.

Oxygen. She needed oxygen.

He carefully lowered her down before turning towards the emergency supplies. They were secured under the floor of the cockpit via a hatch. He pulled the cache out, ripping the lid open to find what he was looking for.

Inside was a plethora of survival items. Along with the basic human necessitates such as bedding, clothing, rations, and water, he was able to locate several oxygen masks.

The battery-operated mask turned on without issue. Data brought it back to Faith. He slipped it on over her nose and mouth, ensuring it was properly secured. Then, he waited, watching the digital readout on the side. Soon, her breathing returned to normal and the mask's sensors showed she was receiving proper oxygen.

Data allowed himself a moment to breathe, metaphorically. It was within his programming to protect lives but seeing Faith in danger had touched him on another level entirely. He did not understand it completely. He supposed it was his positronic brain's version of panic. Seeing someone special to him hurt was never easy.

He had never yelled before. That was new. 

Data took in Faith's naked body and returned to the cache. Withdrawing a spare jumpsuit, he took the time to carefully dress her before wrapping a blanket around her still frame. With no life support controls, the temperature had begun to drop and he did not wish for her to be cold.

Faith's pulse and heart rate were steady, yet she had not regained consciousness. Each oxygen mask had a battery life of seven days and there were four in the cache. While he did not need one himself, he did not feel comfortable allowing her to rely only on the mask to support her breathing. Especially if they needed to leave the shuttle.

The sleeping area was destroyed, a mess of twisted metal, wires, and a gaping hole on one side. Data scoured the room for any personal items before manually sealing the doors to that section. He found Faith's sketchbook and his uniform but nothing else. 

After, he did a sweep of the remaining areas to assess the damage. Before he attempted, he needed to ensure there were no other major damages. A quick scan revealed no additional hull breaches.

Data returned to check on Faith, who appeared to be asleep. He watched her for a moment, stroking her hair before continuing his work.

He had to connect himself to the shuttle in order to provide some semblance of power to work with. Even then he was only able to access the emergency stores. Thankfully, it was enough. The backup power kicked in, restarting life support and lights. Unfortunately, there was not enough for communications.

By then Faith was awake, silently watching him work. "What's the damage?" she asked, her voice warped by the mask.

"We have minimal life support," Data said, closing the console panel. "I have sealed off the sleeping area due to a hull breach. However, our emergency supplies are well-stocked. We are safe for the time being."

"Well, that's something at least." Faith slowly pushed herself up to sit. "Did you dress me?"

"Yes. I did not wish for you to get cold."

"Thank you. You do know you're still naked right?"

Data looked down at himself. "Ah. So I am. Excuse me." He picked up his abandoned clothing, only to find them torn. "It seems my uniform is no longer wearable."

"I mean, if you want to go naked, I won't say no."

Data pulled one of the spare jumpsuits from the cache. "Being stranded on a strange planet may not be the ideal location to remain nude."

Faith sighed dramatically. "Why is it that every time we get close the ship gets attacked in some way?" she asked. She sat with her back against the wall, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. 

"It does seem that way," Data agreed, taking a seat next to her. "How are you feeling?"

"My head is a little fuzzy but I'm okay," she assured him. "Is life support stable enough for me to remove the mask?"

Data picked up the tricorder he had used to help fix the power. After a quick scan, he shook his head. "It does not yet appear to be safe."

Faith sighed and silently leaned into Data for support. He put down the tricorder, tightening his hold on her. She was scared if her trembling body was any indication. 

No words were spoken, though Data did not feel the need to speak. Simply holding Faith was sufficient. When she withdrew, she touched her forehead to his briefly before taking a deep breath.

"Okay," she said, voice firm. "Now that we have life support, what should we do?"

"I believe you should remain seated for a while. You lost oxygen for several minutes. I do not wish for you to push yourself too soon."

"Well then after that."

"We should survey the area outside the shuttle to ensure we are in no immediate danger. If we are not, we will remain here. The Enterprise will come searching for us once her repairs are complete."

"What I want to know is what the hell happened? The shuttle was working just fine. What pulled us to the planet?"

"I do not know. Normally, I would suggest we try to determine the cause. However, given our current predicament, it would be ill-advised to wander too far. The Enterprise's sensors would be able to detect any anomalies from orbit."

"Good point." She glanced through the windshield of the cockpit. "It looks like there is some light out there, though I don't know what the day cycle on this planet is."

"We will go outside after you have sufficiently rested. Unless you feel you are up to the task."

Faith sighed. "Not really, but let's do it anyway. The sooner we look around, the sooner we can come back."

"Quite right. Let us see what is out there."

Faith stood, dropping her blanket as Data grabbed the tricorder. They both attached phasers to their hips before Data opened the shuttle door.

They were met with a blast of cold air and Faith shivered. Data's tricorder showed the temperature steadily decreasing.

"We will not stay out for long," he assured her. "The temperature is dropping significantly."

"Wish there was something warmer to wear," Faith muttered, tugging at the jumpsuit.

Together, they stepped out of the shuttle. They had landed in a dense, dead forest. There were plants and trees, but nothing looked healthy. It was all brown and crumbling. With his tricorder, Data began to take readings as Faith followed close behind. 

It looked like the shuttle had dragged along the ground for some time before it ultimately came to a stop. There was a deep groove in the hard dirt behind it and a large tree looked to be the cause of the breach in the sleeping area.

"Getting anything interesting?" Faith asked.

"Nothing unusual," Data said as they made a wide loop around the shuttle. "I am getting traces of the alien DNA we found. However, no significant readings to point us towards what brought us here."

Data noticed Faith seemed jumpy. She remained unusually close to him while they walked and frequently looked over her shoulder.

"Something is definitely wrong here," she muttered.

Data paused, looking up from the tricorder. "What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it. My gut tells me we're being watched."

Data scanned the area with his eyes. "I do not see anyone. The aliens do possess cloaking abilities, however, the tricorder is only picking up faint traces of the DNA. If they were here, it was not recently."

Faith took her phaser out of her pocket, setting it to stun. "Let's keep moving."

The dead forest seemed to go on forever. They walked until the shuttle was out of sight, only to be met with more forest. The air had become colder and a heavy wind began to pick up. When he heard Faith's teeth begin to chatter, Data decided they were done with their first exploration. 

"We should go back to the shuttle. I do not wish for you to get sick."

She was too cold to answer, only nod as she trembled. Data put the tricorder away and wrapped his arm around her. His body remained a constant temperature which he hoped would help against the cold. 

They returned to the shuttle and had just stepped inside when a storm began to rage. Snow and ice swirled around them. As soon as the shuttle door was closed, Faith wrapped herself in the blanket again. 

"I'm really glad you got life support going because I'd definitely freeze to death otherwise. How's the oxygen now?"

Data did a quick reading. "Minimal for our needs, but steadily increasing."

Faith removed her oxygen mask and placed it on the floor next to her. "Thank the stars, that thing was uncomfortable." She shuddered and pulled the blanket tighter around herself. "Don't suppose we have more of these blankets do we?"

Data put down his tools and walked over to the cache, pulling out all the extra blankets he could find. "This should help," he said, draping them around her until she was thoroughly bundled.

Faith chuckled. "Thanks," she said. "You know, you can come in here with me and warm me up better than these blankets ever could."

"I do not see how that is possible. My body maintains a constant temperature of…" He paused when she raised her eyebrow. "Oh. You were being flirtatious."

"A little. Yes."

"I see."

Data sat down next to her, sliding in close when she opened the blankets. He put his arms around her waist as she enveloped him. "Is this sufficient?"

"Hold me closer."

Data did as she instructed, pulling her so her chilly body was flush against his. "Better?"

"Mmm, much." She snuggled into his chest, tucking her head under his chin. 

Data held her close, feeling her body temperature slowly return to normal. "It appears as though we are stuck here for the time being. What do you wish to do? I did manage to find your sketchbook."

“Oh, you saw that?”

“Yes. I did not mean to pry. I was simply curious about it.”

“It’s okay. It’s just something I was trying when I have some downtime.”

“Do you wish to sketch now?”

“No. I want to stay snuggled here with you. In fact…” She drew closer so their lips brushed. "Let's start with kissing and then see where it leads."

"As you wish." Data cupped her cheek and kissed her deeply.

She responded with a content sigh, kissing him back. He could feel her smile rather than see it and the notion that he made her happy by a simple press of their lips was most curious.

They held each other as they kissed. He was in no rush to push things further. She seemed perfectly happy sitting there with him, snuggled in blankets as they kissed. 

When they separated so she could catch her breath, her smile remained in place. "I know we're stranded on a random planet in a broken shuttle but at least we're together," she said. "If I hadn't been here, you'd be stranded alone and I would have never forgiven myself for letting you go."

"I understand your sentiment, though I cannot help but feel responsible for your safety."

"How so?"

"If something were to happen to you, I do not know how I will react."

"Well, then I'll just make sure nothing happens to me." 

Data doubted it was as simple as she made it sound. There were very few outcomes for their current situation. But he knew that this would not be the time for complete honesty. So he decided to refocus the conversation. 

"Now that the danger has passed, I have an inquiry," he said.

"What is it?"

"How would you describe my abilities? Sexually."

Faith pulled back, looking up at him with wide eyes. "You want me to rate you?"

"It is the only way for me to improve my performance," he explained. "As you know, my experience is limited and I do not wish to leave you less than satisfied."

"Oh, trust me. I was plenty satisfied," Faith smirked with a wag of her eyebrows.

"On a scale of one to one-hundred, using percentages, where would my performance fall?"

"Data, babe, I'm not going to rate you."

"But I wish to improve."

"I understand that I really do," she assured him. "But I don't want you overthinking. You were great. Phenomenal. If I need you to do something different, I will tell you in the moment."

"Like when you asked me to decrease my speed?"

"Correct." She smiled. "I'm more interested in what you thought of the experience."

Data considered her words. "It was...intriguing," he said. "While I was able to feel the tactile side of the equation, part of me wished to know how emotions would have heightened the experience. That is what I meant when I said I would not be able to 'feel' your mouth. I knew it was warm and wet, your tongue was soft. But there was nothing else associated with those words."

Her expression softened and she wrapped her arms around his arm in a light hug. "Was it difficult to enjoy?"

"No," Data assured her. "I found the sights and sounds you made quite enjoyable and I did manage to achieve an orgasm."

"Yes. Yes, you did. Is that also automatic or—?"

"It is based on stimulation though there is a timed factor to it, which I can extend if I wish."

"Mmm, good to know." She kissed him softly. "You were magnificent and if we hadn't crashed I probably would have initiated sex."

"Oh." Data lacked any other response to the mental image. "That is on the list so I would not discourage you."

Faith laughed, resting her head on his shoulder again. "I'm glad to hear it. Though I don't think I'm really going to be in the mood for much until we're rescued."

"I understand." Data contemplated for a moment. "Faith, I have another inquiry."

"I'm not surprised," she teased. "What is it?"

"In analyzing the noises you made during our intimate time, I realized that I did not make similar verbal attempts to encourage you. I do know moaning and sometimes talk is prevalent in erotic media. Do you wish for me to simulate such things?"

"Data, let me give you some advice," Faith said in a gentle tone. "Don't worry or put too much stock in what you've seen in porn. Most of it is purely for show and not a real representation of sex."

"I see. That does remove several items from my list." 

Faith blinked up at him with wide eyes. "Maybe you should send me a copy of this list," she suggested. "Just to make sure I am comfortable with what's on it."

"That is understandable. I will send it to you once we are back on the Enterprise."

"Looking forward to it," she said, stifling a yawn.

Data held Faith close, listening as she began to doze off. They had nothing to do but wait, so he decided it would be a good a time as any to activate his own dream program. 

"There is a portable bed in the cache if you would like to lay down," he told Faith as she yawned for the second time.

"Only if you lay with me."

"I had a similar thought. It has been some time since I dreamt."

"Great. You do that, I'll have some rations."

Data untangled himself from Faith's blankets to lay out the emergency bed. As it inflated, she ate and drank, her eyes growing droopier by the minute. By the time she was done, she looked like she was ready to pass out again.

"I don't know why I'm so tired," she said. "I just woke up a few hours ago."

"It has been a difficult time," Data said, helping her lie down on the bed. "Perhaps your body is fatigued by the crash and oxygen deprivation."

"Maybe." Faith yawned again, curling against his side as soon as he lay next to her. "I am glad we don't have to wait until we get back to the ship to share a bed though. That's nice."

"Yes, I agree." He slipped his arm around her, enjoying the warmth. "Are you comfortable?"

"With you, always."

Data smiled at the sentiment. It did not take long for Faith to fall asleep, which he found strange. She almost always took time to get comfortable before she was able to rest. Regardless, he closed his own eyes soon after.

They were in the forest together. He had not dreamt of her there since the first time. Yet, there she was, her dark hair shining in the sunlight as she sat among the roses. 

"Data, come on, join me," she said, extending her hand. 

He smiled and reached for it, her fingers curling around his as he did. She gave him a smirk and yanked him down. They tumbled down together, Data still smiling as Faith laughed. She rolled them over so she was splayed across his chest, her wavy brown tresses draping over their faces like a curtain.

"Gotcha," she said and kissed him.

Data kissed her back, reaching to tuck her wild hair behind her ear. They withdrew and she looked down at him with such love and adoration he wished he was not dreaming. Would he ever be able to look at her that way? Would she always give him such admiration? Or was their time together limited? 

He could only give her so much.

As if she could read his thoughts, her smile faded and she looked up. But her next words were not what he was expecting. "Someone's coming…"

Data did not wish for her to worry. "We are alone. No one can harm us here."

She did not appear to hear him. Quickly, she scrambled off him and took off running. Confused and concerned, Data rose to his feet and gave chase.

But the forest was no longer bright and as he lost sight of her, his peaceful place changed. 

The woods became dark and twisted, nothing like they used to be.

This was not right. There was no sun. No birds. Only howling wind and emptiness.

Data ran. He ran as fast as he could, yet could not escape the crushing darkness around him.

Faith, he thought. I must find Faith. 

Suddenly, a pitch-black shadow sprouted from nowhere and he crashed into it, flying back so violently he rolled on the ground before he was still.

Data awoke with a start, immediately noticing that Faith was no longer at his side. He sat up with alarm, looking around the shuttle.

Except, there was no Faith. Actually, there was no shuttle. 

Data found himself in a square room, with only a dim light above which cast the edges of the room into shadow. Gray metal walls and floors were all around him 

"Faith? Faith!" he called. There was no answer, only his voice echoing back. 

He saw a set of doors and immediately headed for them. They did not open as he approached and try as he might, he could not pry them apart.

He was confused, unsure of where he was or how he got there. It startled him that he was alone and his mind began to calculate many theories as to what happened to Faith. None of them were favorable.

Data turned back towards the room, only to notice something tucked in the corner that he missed before.

 A chair.

A very familiar wooden chair with a purple jumpsuit draped over it.

"This is not possible," he said out loud as he approached the only piece of furniture in the room. His hand touched the object, proving it was not a hologram or projection.

Just then the doors opened and Data turned, expecting the intruder yet still surprised by his appearance.

"Hello, Mr. Data," the man said with a smirk. "I told you we'd see each other again."

Data felt his hands ball into fists as he faced his enemy. "Kivas Fajo."

Fajo grinned, arms spread wide. "Oh good, you remember me," he said, stepping further into the room. "You have no idea the lengths I've gone through to bring you here."

[anocchristmas]

Merry Christmas to @katiesocs​

Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. 

There was a time before 1941 when Murphy had been very excited about maybe one day meeting his soulmate. One of his eyes was a nice ocean blue and the other a deep chocolate brown. As tacky as it may have sounded, he liked both colors. It felt wrong to prefer one color over the other as it was a mystery which one belonged to his soulmate and which was his. He spent an embarrassing amount of time picturing himself with both blue eyes or both brown eyes, and picturing a soulmate with the opposite pair of eyes. He had imagined how their first meeting would go; in a small corner diner in the neighborhood, Murphy tucked in a corner sketching as a tall handsome guy leaned over to compliment his work. They’d talk and wouldn’t notice their eyes had changed until one of them pointed it out, they’d exchange numbers and eventually get married. Atleast, that’s how he hoped it would happen. Unfortunately for him, things most likely wouldn’t happen that way. 

Having been in Brooklyn in 1941 and being gay made the whole concept of soulmate matching more complicated. Granted, it would have been easier to find his soulmate than be able to live a happy life with them at that time. Having to spend the rest of his life with a person who is supposed to be his match made in heaven, but being forced to hide it because of the way society viewed people like him? It terrified him. What if his soulmate couldn’t handle a life like that? What if he couldn’t? These thoughts plagued his mind every night and they only became worse when kids in his class found their soulmates.

Of course maybe he wouldn’t find his soulmate at 17, maybe he’d be older with a stable job and living somewhere where his lifestyle wouldn’t be criticized or frowned upon. Or maybe his soulmate would be someone rational enough to keep his thoughts and worries at bay. They could live in a time or place where everything would be fine. He wished he didn’t have to be old, or dead to experience something like that. Except, after receiving the beating of his life in an alley, Murphy meets Briar and is turned partially immortal. Which, cool, but also, how was he supposed to live a fulfilling life with his soulmate now? It only brought a wave of new worries and he tried not to think about them too much. Besides, he’s super strong now.

As the years passed and the color of his eyes remained unchanged, Murphy’s hope of meeting his soulmate plummeted drastically after every decade. It’s not uncommon for someone to never meet their soulmate before dying, he’d just be part of the small percentage that doesn’t. Besides, it’s not like he’d be alone. Briar had also never met her soulmate and she didn’t seem as bothered by it as Murphy. He guessed it’s because she had lived longer and had made her peace with it. He couldn’t wait to get to that point so he wouldn’t have to think about it so much. He was tired. 

Eventually they had settled in a small town of Beacon Hills. They had lived in so many towns since he had become part of the clan that he’d lost count and stopped caring about the names. It wouldn’t matter anyway. They’d have to relocate after a few years when people start to question why they still look so young. Murphy had grown accustomed to it. Moving around so much had left little room for friendships and attachments. But it was also the fact that he’d outlive mostly anyone he met that held him back from socializing much. Most of his interactions were limited to the clan and anyone Briar has business with, being that he was second in command and all that. And if he sometimes ventured out by himself to be around people in hopes of casually meeting his soulmate, then that was nobody’s business.

On one of their “off” days, while Briar is out without him, Murphy finds himself becoming ansty. Nothing is easing his need to want to do something, not even drawing. He’s gone through at least half his sketchbook, but can’t seem to complete a whole sketch without giving up halfway through. Eventually he slams his pencil down on his desk and pushes the sketchbook away, cursing loudly, as one does. The clan members, Lena, Elliot, and Tipper, ignore his outburst and continue to do whatever it is their doing from where they’re lounging about in the room.

“I'll be right back” He announces. Only Tipper acknowledges him as he heads out the door.

“Don’t die!” Tipper yells out, and somehow Murphy finds that reassuring.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, given that he doesn’t really know the town well. Or at all. But the sound of faint dance music leads him to a club on the outskirts of the downtown area. There are small groups of muscled men, some nearly naked, standing outside of the building. Murphy watches for a moment before deciding to head inside. He flashes the bouncer his most current fake ID card and brushes past the tall men by the door.

The music is way too loud, with too much bass, it nearly raptures his ears. He adjusts to the noise quickly enough and bee lines to an empty corner where he can be left alone but still be able to see almost everything. If human 1941 Murphy could see him now, openly gay, sitting in a gay club, living with no fear of who he is. It’s freeing, really.

Someone sends him a drink, a lean man with light brown hair and a big smile, he waves at Murphy from the bar as the server sets the drink on the table. Murphy raises his glass as a thank you and silently hopes the guy doesn’t come over. And he doesn’t, thankfully, leaving Murphy to solitude like he’d intended.

Going to clubs isn’t something he does often, but he does like to check out the scene every couple years just to see how things are. It’s good to see how much better things have gotten since the 40s, and he’s weirdly glad that he’s been able to see firsthand how progressive people have become. Not that things are 100%, but they’re better.

He doesn’t stay long and he doesn’t finish the drink the man bought him, not that he can get drunk anyway.

Walking briskly through empty allies probably isn’t the best idea Murphy has had, given that the town is packed with hunters and other supernatural beings, but he makes it back to the forest in a breeze. It’s quiet for a moment, but the sounds of running and yelling and growling quickly reach his ears and he finds himself heading toward the noise. Another great idea on his end, really.

The scene is hectic. There’s a young woman hiding behind a tree as two figures roll around on the ground fighting. It’s hard to see much from where he’s standing, but Murphy can see one of them is losing horribly. He sees flashes of yellow and white eyes, and then the yellow is launched about 100 feet in the air and into a tree.

“Oh shit.” He says dumbly as the figure with white eyes turns to face him. He looks over at the girl still hiding, clutching the tree as if it’ll be enough to keep whatever that is away. “You should probably run.”

And then he’s rumbling with the thing too.

It’s strong, Murphy notices right away. He stumbles a bit as he tries to hold his own against it and it doesn’t take long for him to get launched like a toy, but thankfully he didn’t get thrown at a tree. Oh right. He looks over to the other person on the ground, struggling to get up. He sees the yellow eyes, fangs, and pointy ears and figures that he’s a werewolf. They’re doomed if neither of them can take this thing down together.

“Might wanna hurry up there, Larry Talbot.” He feels an uncontrollable urge to help the person, to make sure they’re okay. It’s weird and it’s gone when they push themselves off the ground to go at the creature again. Brave fucker, then.

Murphy staggers to his feet, and throws himself into the fight again. The werewolf is down on the floor in a second, falling flat on his stomach. The second it takes Murphy to look down to make sure he’s not hurt is enough time for the wendigo to crouch down and sink its teeth into Murphy’s thigh. He yells out in pain and falls to his knees because what the fuck that’s a lot of teeth.

Murphy must black out or something because the next time he opens his eyes he’s lying on the forest floor, alone. He looks around for any sign of the yellow eyed werewolf or the beast, but there’s nothing, not even a sound. The wound on his leg is almost fully healed, but Murphy can still practically feel all the teeth in his flesh, it’s gross, really. Slowly, he rises to his feet, shakes off the dirt from his clothes, fixes his hair, and heads home. Briar isn’t home yet, thankfully, so he walks straight to his room and lays on the floor.

Some time later there’s a knock on his door, which means there’s a clan meeting, so he makes his way to the living room where everyone, including Briar, is waiting. He takes a seat on the arm of the couch next to Lena and Briar takes that as a cue to start.

“There’s a wendigo loose in the area” She says. Tipper is the first to raise a hand. 

“Those are the ones that shapeshift right?”

“Technically, most supernatural beings can shapeshift” Elliot replies from the opposite end of the couch. Then as an afterthought adds, “So you’re not wrong.”

“Am I ever?” 

Elliot makes a face.“Well…”

Tipper glares at Elliot then turns to Lena. “Have I ever been wrong? Don’t lie.”

Lena looks at the finger Tipper is pointing at her, then looks up. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Wow. Unbelievable.”

“Wendigos live off eating human flesh” Elliot supplies, because of course Elliot knows what it is. 

“Ah. Cannibals.” Tipper nods, “Hey aren’t we somehow cannibals too?”

Elliot is pinching the bridge of their nose, mentally preparing to hear whatever it is Tipper is going to say. 

“I mean. Right? We drink human blood, that’s like one step away from human flesh.” Everyone groans as Tipper seems to be having a crisis. “I’m not a cannibal, but who knows.”

“Guys.” Briar warns. They all shut their mouths and go back to paying attention to what she has to say. “It’s apparently already gotten three people, including one tonight. So can we please be serious about this.”

“Wait. Was it a girl?” Murphy asks. “The one that got killed?”

Maybe he should’ve tried a little more than telling the girl to run. If she got killed because of him…. he pushes the thought away and waits for Briar’s response instead.

“No, it was a guy. He was with a girl, but I managed to get her home safely.” Briar says, then looks at Murphy. “How did you-”

Briar stops abruptly and stares with an open mouth, and soon Murphy can feel the stares from the rest of the clan. He looks over at them, then at Briar, then back.

“What the fuck are you guys staring at?” He looks down at his clothes and notices that they’ve got dirt all over and there’s a twig stuck to his sweater. “Oh. Yeah I might’ve snuck out and fought the wendi-whatever”

Apparently that isn’t enough of an answer because they’re still staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What? Stop fuckin looking at me like that”

“Murph….” Briar begins, but can’t seem to get the words out. Now they’re all starting to freak him out. 

“If no one tells me what the fuck is going on i’m going to-“

“Bro. Your eyes.” Tipper says. And what? what about them?

“Okay?” He’s a little panicked now. Are they bruised or something? The fuck. 

“They’re both blue” Elliot adds.

Both blue. What the fuck? He nearly throws up, for some reason. How did he manage to meet his soulmate and miss it? Fuck. 

“Fuck” He breathes out as he runs his fingers through his hair, going over all the events from tonight. Who could it have been? Somehow the wendigo situation is put on hold and they're all trying to figure out who the lucky guy might’ve been. They probe him for questions and he answers as best he can because honestly the only thing on his mind is What The Fuck? 

They somehow narrow it down to five people. Murphy is still in shock an hour later, and stares at the wall they’ve made into their mystery board. Or whatever. It’s full of post-its of different colors and sizes, most with their names crossed out. The five left on the board are moved to the center, all in order of most likely to least likely. Tipper is the most excited about it, having gone through at least three red bulls. 

                                                                     Server                                                                     Bar Guy                                                                     Bouncer                                                                    Wendigo                                                               Yellow Eye Guy

“We’re going to find this dude, alright? I swear to you.” Tipper holds Murphys face in their hands, Murphy swats them away and stands. He apparently hadn’t moved since he found out about his eyes.

“Alright alright get back” He straightens his jacket and moves closer to the wall. He squints at one of the names. “Seriously? The Wendigo?” The Wendigo is my soulmate?”

“It could be. Can’t rule anyone out”

“That’s…” Murphy shakes his head and sighs. “Alright. I guess. Whatever.”

They all go into a whole discussion about how they’re going to track down every single person on the list and Murphy is surprised that Briar is joining in on their hijinks. Their excitement is kind of contagious, he finds himself buzzing. or shaking. He can’t tell.

“Shouldn’t the cannibal be first on the list? since it’s, ya know, a priority?” Murphy asks.

“Yeah but what if we die before we can get halfway through the list?” Tippy says, as if duh. Murphy shakes his head. 

“Right.” He says. “Right.”

Somehow they all make it back to the club where Murphy had spent his time earlier that night. Tippy practically runs into the Bouncer asking a million questions per second. The poor guy looks at the rest of them asking for help. Elliot tugs Tipper away and asks what they need to ask.

“Have you matched today?” The man shakes his head. “Matched 6 years ago. Sorry.”

After showing their IDs, they all head inside and wait for Murphy to guide them to whoever the Bar Guy is, and the server. Luckily, the server is still on the clock, Elliot and Tipper beeline to the guy as soon as Murphy points him out. They stop a couple feet away from him and then head back.

“Unmatched” They say at the same time. 

They can’t find Bar Guy anywhere and Murphy is scared that maybe he left and they won’t be able to find out if they matched. They’re about to lose hope when Murphy bumps into someone and it turns out to be Bar Guy. One eye green, one eye light brown. It’s a no then.

“Hey! It’s you!” He exclaims excitedly, clearly drunk. “Oh sorry, I didn’t know you were matched.”

Murphy half laughs. “Yeah”

The club is a dead end and now they’re left with a Wendigo and Yellow Eye Guy. Fuck, what if it’s the Wendigo?

 ——

There’s a meeting with local werewolves and hunters the next day that Murphy is supposed to go to, being second in command and all. He really doesn’t want to go, but he showers and changes into his Fancy Hoodie and is on his way. They meet up at a veterinary clinic a couple minutes away, because that’s where meetings are held nowadays. They’re greeted by a bald man that Briar calls Deaton who leads them into a back room where three men are standing around an examination table.

The youngest one of the three is standing with his arms crossed, gaze stern. His eyes unmatched, one eye dark brown and the other a grey green. The older man next to him has matched eyes, both green. The other a cold blue pair. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been paying attention to people’s eyes again, it’s been awhile since he last cared.

He stands to Briars left, not saying a word for the rest of the meeting. The werewolves–– that he’s learned are named Derek and Peter–– had been out hunting it down along with the other older man, a hunter named Chris. They haven’t figured out exactly who the wendigo is, so that's their next step. If there’s one, there’s usually a whole group of them, sometimes whole families. Murphy only listens to about half of what they say, but he manages to absorb enough out of the conversation to relay information to the rest of the clan in case they have questions.

When the meeting is over, they all go their separate ways, Briar and Murphy going straight to the clan to catch them up on what they’ve learned. The three members are huddled around the “Soulmate Wall”, Tipper staring intently at the remaining two names. Murphy appreciates the devotion, and he’s glad they’re all putting in effort to help him, but he’s also a bit terrified of finding out who exactly his soulmate is. And he’s also afraid of not finding out. He never thought it would be like this once he matched.

Briar calls for a quick meeting, peeling the three from the wall. She’s about to start speaking when Tipper stands abruptly, sniffing around.

“I smell blood”

And they’re off. Human blood can mean another attack, or death. Briar takes the lead, a look of determination in her eyes. She’s not one to let others die when she’s around and neither are the rest of the members, so they’re moving as fast as they physically can. When they reach the source of the scent, they’re met with a lanky pale boy sitting on the floor tending to his palms as a boy with wavy hair crouches next to him. They both jump up when they realize they’re not alone.

“Oh there's more.” The pale boy says as he hides behind his friend, or soulmate. Murphy can see that they’re both matched from where he’s standing. “We’re gonna die.”

“Who are you?” The other boy asks. Murphy can’t stop staring. He feels warm inside.

“You two shouldn’t be out here.” Briar says instead of answering. If the wendigo were to catch the scent of the boys blood, then he’d be in a lot of trouble.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” The one closest to them answers, he glances over at Murphy and sends a shiver down his spine. What the fuck is up with him today?

“Yeah he’s-“ The pale one starts, then cringes a bit. “He’s capable of taking care of himself”

Briar pauses for a moment then shakes her head. She must recognize who they are.

“You must be Stiles and Scott.” She says.

The two boys exchange a confused glance. “How did you know that?”

“Derek,” She tells them. “He told me we’d be likely to run into you.”

They’re all interrupted by a loud screech coming from further into the woods. The one with an uneven jawline says a name, Murphy thinks it’s Allison, then runs off in the direction of the noise. His soulmate probably. Murphy doesn’t understand why he’s so disappointed, but he has no time to think about it because Briar is running to the commotion too.

“Yeah, you guys just— I'll wait here.” The pale boy says as they begin running off one by one. Tipper salutes the boy and laughs before leaving him there with a bloody hand, which probably isn’t a good idea with a wendigo on the loose. But they’re all gone so Murphy leaves too.

They find a half injured Wendigo trying to fight with the guy from earlier. There are a couple arrows sticking out from its back, all probably from the tall girl in a long black coat holding a very modern bow. She’s still shooting at it, trying to immobilize it enough for them to take it on, but it’s almost like the arrows are doing nothing to it.

“Scott!” She yells out just as the wendigo sends the guy, Scott, flying. He crashes right on top of Murphy who’d been standing a few feet behind him. Groaning, Murphy pushes him off and shakes off the leaves on his clothes.

“That thing just loves throwing people around.” He mumbles, readying for a fight. the clan members are already going up against it and it’s just barely enough. Soon they’re all being thrown around like rag dolls, it’s hard to see who’s being thrown where and who’s who. It’s all a blur really, until a shot is fired and the thing falls to the ground with a thud. Everyone’s eyes go to Chris, who’s still holding the gun up.

“Don’t worry, I used a tranquilizer.” He reassures Scott who looks disheveled and a bit scandalized. He must be anti murder or something. “It won’t keep him down long, let’s get him to Eichen.”

Briar nods, then stretches an arm out to help the arrow girl Murphy assumes is Allison. She helps her up off the ground and then both of them freeze.

“Oh!!!!” Tipper yells out. “Holy shit you’re matching.”

Everyone keeps their distance, letting the two have their moment. The clan is buzzing with excitement, including Murphy who lets himself forget that he has a soulmate out there somewhere that he might not ever meet. At Least Briar found hers. He notices that the pale guy, Stiles, is somehow now next to his friend, he was probably hiding out in the trees.

Murphy watches intently as Stiles approaches the wendigo carefully, peeling its eyes open. He frowns as he shuffles away back to Scott. 

“He’s unmatched.” He hears him say. Were they hoping he was matched? Well now Murphy knows the wendigo isn’t his match either. That’s good, then. “We’ll find your Larry Talbot, buddy”

At that, Murphy’s head snaps over to the pair. “He called me Larry Talbot though,” Scott clarifies. And Murphy’s head is spinning. Could Scott be Yellow Eyed Guy? How does he ask? Should he get Tipper to ask? “I don't even know who that is.”

“He’s the, uh, original wolf man.” Murphy says. “From 1941.”

“Huh.” Stiles says, hands on his hips. Scott stares intently at Murphy, it kind of makes him squirm.

“You…” Scott starts to say, taking a small step forward. “I recognize your voice. It was you.”

Murphy absolutely freezes. So it is Scott. That explains the warm feeling inside when he was around him, the same feeling he feels right now. The two stare at each other for a second too long that Stiles starts looking between the two excitedly.

“Oh, my god!” He exclaims in the same tone as Tipper a few minutes earlier. “Dude!”

“Yellow Eyed Guy!!!!!” Tipper yells, grinning.

Everything turns into a blur of hugs and yelling and congratulations that Murphy doesn’t even realize when the wendigo was taken away and when a group of people turned into just Scott and him. It’s calm, finally, and he’s glad that his soulmate didn’t turn out to be a flesh eating supernatural creature. After nearly 100 years, of living a life of not knowing who he could end up with, of worrying that maybe he wouldn’t have one because of what he became, he’s finally found someone that’s brave, with a good moral compass, and cute. Someone he still has to get to know, that makes him excited to want to learn everything about them. The thought makes him happy. 

“So, soulmates?” He says nervously. A kind smile spreads across Scott’s face, it makes Murphy swoon.

“Soulmates.” 

[sithroyal]

Kylo and Relationships

this headcanon was prompted by rpcDev’s challenge. word count: 2,926 (not including prompt questions/topics).

Level one

Handling relationships

     Kylo / Ben keeps most relationships at arm’s length. 

While working with the First Order, he is focused on his work and therefore isn’t terribly interested in becoming romantic with someone. In this case, it tends to be a ‘if it happens, it happens’ situation. He has a habit of tunnel visioning on his goals and often forgetting or overlooking a romantic partner around this time.

As Ben, he tends to keep most people away to protect them from him and his reputation. Ben is well aware that his past is turbulent and has led to him being unstable (both mentally and financially). He doesn’t wish that kind of instability on someone else. This doesn’t mean that he won’t be friends with another person but romantic relationships will be sparse and far between.

Reminder: He’s aware of what he’s done as Kylo Ren and he knows that he chose to do those things. Post-TROS Ben Solo is not deluded into thinking that he’s well loved simply because he finally went back to the light. 

Strongest familial relationship? Closest non-familial platonic relationship?

     Strongest family relationship is most definitely Han. As a child, Ben wasn’t able to sleep well until he was at least two years old and the only person who could get him to sleep was Han. He looked up to his father and wanted to be like him when he grew up. If anyone asked a young Ben Solo where he saw himself as an adult, he would have said that he’d have been a crew member on the Millennium Falcon. 

Non-familial would have to be Hux, oddly enough. Ren respects that Hux has no reason to lie to him about anything. Hux has no problem telling him when he’s done something fucking stupid and he’s not going to blow smoke up his ass just to do it. He’s well aware that Hux has a strong dislike for him and he prefers it. 

Tied with Hux is Rey. Someone who didn’t even know him, someone he tormented and hunted down like prey, did what she could to bring him back when he didn’t deserve her efforts. Even with the force bond, that’s left a hell of an impact on Ben. 

How do these bonds (or lack thereof) influence them? Do these relationships impact them negatively, or positively, in terms of forming or considering romantic relationships? 

     It’s a mixed bag. In many of his relationships, there’s been an element of betrayal, either to him or by himself. Broken trust can do a lot of things to mess a person up. A nice way to visualize it is that Ben’s trust is like a mirror that’s been hit multiple times, broken, and he’s tried to piece it back together but there are lost shards. 

There’s the chance that he’s never going to fully trust someone to the amount that they’ll want him to. This doesn’t mean that he won’t try though. Of course, that’s not counting Snoke’s influence and his struggles with the dark side. Ben’s responsible for his father’s death and the death of many countless others. 

Are they the type to dive in head first, or do they test the waters & take things slow?

     Slow. For the love of everything that’s holy, go slow with him. Ben has never had a romantic relationship before. He’s going to make mistakes and misunderstand how to do things. Not only that, but he has a lot of fucking trauma to deal with. 

Once again, just because he went back to the light doesn’t mean that he’s automatically perfect. Ben’s going to struggle like any other person when it comes to a new relationship. He’s been under Snoke’s thumb for around six years and there was pre-existing instability before that. Anxiety, depression, and for a short while, he believed he was hearing voices. There’s a lot of unhealthy thinking that’s going to need to be dealt with before he’ll be able to fully commit to a romantic relationship. 

This isn’t to say that one can’t happen but go slow with him. 

Level Two

What are some things that help them 'make the jump' from something platonic to considering something deeper with someone?  

     Being understanding and patient with him helps a fucking lot and he likes to make sure that his partner is taken care of, as Kylo or Ben. 

For Kylo, it’s knowing that he may never be a part of the light and understanding if he chooses to stay. Treating him the way that he feels he deserves is one of the biggest things. He hates himself as Kylo Ren but he also feels that he’s the superior version of himself. So if someone genuinely likes him while he’s Kylo Ren / in the First Order, that’s going to get his attention 100% and he’ll want something more eventually. 

For Ben, it’s going to be someone giving him the chance to learn who he is and how to handle being a normal person again. Someone that’s going to take a chance on him. He knows that he’s done horrific, scummy, abusive, terrible shit in his past, he’s never going to deny it, but if they let him grow and change naturally, that’s important. 

However, they have to also understand that just because they love him, doesn’t mean that he’s going to automatically be a good person. Ben is going to struggle for the rest of his life when it comes to the darker aspects of himself. He’s spent so long in the dark that his eyes need the chance to adjust. Yanking him out into the world and immediately having expectations is not going to help and it will make him back away and close himself off.

What kind of traits do they look for or find attractive? 

     Physical traits don’t matter much to him at all. He’d not going to pick someone based on their looks because that simply doesn’t interest him. What he looks for is in their heart and how they carry themselves. 

For both Kylo and Ben, it’s important to know that they’re driven, determined, and passionate. He wants someone that’s going to inspire him, whether to be lighter or darker doesn’t matter. Their heart, soul, and presence is part of what will get his attention before their looks. 

So don’t come at him thinking that an attractive muse is going to be bedding him any time soon.

Conversely, what kind of things disqualifies a person or throw up major red flags?

     Heavy sexual forwardness. Exhibiting behavior that he used to have while as Kylo Ren or that similar to Snoke. Talking down about others in front of him. Saying anything negative about his parents or anyone in his family (Ben Solo specific). Talking about marriage or having children with him, especially when he barely knows the person.

Is there something that kept them from being in a relationship until they found that special someone? If so, what makes them that someone distinctly unique?

     Well, given that he’s had two Sith Lords manipulating him from a young age, the First Order taking up much of his time, and having to work on becoming a more stable version of himself, Ben’s had a pretty difficult time. So he’s likely never actually looked for anyone in his life.

He doesn’t know if anyone’s ever going to be the one for him or if he’s ever going to truly deserve them (spoiler alert, he’s never going to believe he’s worthy). At this point in his life, he’s going to take whatever he can get and hope that he can be a better version of himself by the time he’s forty (or the worst, if we’re talking Kylo).

Level Three

What gestures imply trust, once that trust has been established? 

     If he falls asleep around them or in the same bed, he trusts them. Talking about his emotions, thoughts, and feelings are another. He’ll give his opinions far more often and take a high amount of interest in the other person’s personal safety. 

The highest level can be seen through whether or not he’s willing to be naked in general around them. If he’s willing to be that vulnerable, then they’ve reached peak trust with him.

What is their love language, & how does this manifest in their relationships? Specific examples are a plus. 

     Doing things. He prefers to do stuff for people. Whether it’s as simple as making food or cleaning something up and going so far as to beat someone half to death for them.

Protecting someone and willingly putting himself between them and an enemy speaks to a lot of love and trust for that person. 

It’s rare that he’ll ever do this in front of another but if he’s willing to cry in front of them, that’s huge. Making fun of him for showing more vulnerable emotions is a sure way for him to cut someone off entirely. That trust will be broken instantly.

Do they like pet names? Do they use pet names?

     Absolutely not. Calling him a pet name will not have the desired affect. While it may seem cutesy or even endearing, hearing them will do nothing more than put him on edge. The only person that ever gave him pet names was his mother and he reserves that right to her only until he trusts the person. 

As for using them, it’s limited. If he does, it’s once in a blue moon. As Kylo, good luck getting him to use them because that’s most likely not happening at all. As Ben, rarely. 

However, as he gets more comfortable, there’s a good chance he’ll start allowing pet names toward himself. At the same time, it also depends on what the pet name is and whether or not he’ll reject it. 

Level Four

What are some negative traits or coping mechanisms they deal with? 

     There’s a mountain of trust issues, anxiety, depression, paranoia, and many more things that’s going on for him. 

As Kylo, he copes through anger and, in many cases, he allows it to control him. He’s highly emotionally driven to the point that his decisions typically don’t make sense. Everything in him is pure chaos. He says things that are callous and cold, usually incredibly hurtful whether they’re intended or not and apologizing for it almost never happens. Many computers and other electronic equipment on the Finalizer have been victimized due to his violent outbursts, this isn’t including force choked employees. 

As Ben, he has a tendency to go for more addictive things. Since Han was the person who gave him his first drink, Ben does use alcohol to comfort himself to a degree. However, he does take notice of it and he tries to stop himself when he realizes it’s becoming a bad habit. Something bad happens? Time to drink. Fucked up and hurt someone? Time to drink. He has to stop that. 

He can’t just pick up a lightsaber and destroy a computer terminal anymore, he has to figure out how to function like a normal fucking human. To that end, he typically tries to rely on meditation techniques that Luke taught him. Getting his emotions out and handled in healthier ways is... difficult. He’s spent so long allowing them to take control for him that finding other solutions feels impossible - until it isn’t. 

How have their past experiences in relationships, or lack thereof, influenced this?

     He felt abandoned by his parents when he was sent to train with his uncle and then, he felt like his uncle had forgotten him when he picked up more padawans. Limited communication with his parents and strict training via Luke left him feeling restricted and burnt out - meaning he was more vulnerable to Snoke and Palpatine’s influence. 

Of course, not everything can be blamed on his family because he did choose to keep the communications with the dark side to himself. Had he spoken to Luke about it, there could have been something done to help him but it was put off until Luke had his vision. When Ben woke up to find Luke standing over him with an ignited saber, he felt threatened and panicked, brought his hut down on Luke and left. 

When he did, he killed many of the other Jedi either directly or indirectly. He burned the temple and ran to join Snoke.

So, taking all of that in mind, his past experiences have certainly put him in some strange areas. Mainly in the way that he’s making choices, terrible ones at that, but he’s also getting influenced into it by others. 

What type of person they are after a relationship ends? Do they stay friends, are they vengeful, are they the type of person that is happy for their ex when they move on or do they want to see their former lovers rot?

     This highly depends on how much he loved the person. If he wasn’t particularly close to them, Ben can part ways and be friendly afterward. If he was highly emotionally invested in them and they break up, he can’t just be friends because he’s still in love with them. Doesn’t matter who ends the relationship.

Kylo is vengeful. He’ll do whatever he feels is necessary to correct the perceived wrong. This includes trying to get the person fired or even killed on the battlefield. He may still love them but it’ll be hard for him to stop that need to hurt them as he’s hurting. 

Ben is much more reasonable when it comes to break ups. He’ll be civil, even so far as being friends, but he won’t be able to allow himself to consider it as anything but his own fault. Ben’ll be happy to see them move on, sure. This doesn’t mean that he’s not still a little bitter but who wants to deal with a guy with years worth of emotional baggage (more like whole storage facilities full of boxes he doesn’t want to unpack yet)?

Level Five

How do they communicate? 

     It’s a little bit of a crap shoot here. 

Kylo doesn’t quite communicate. He expects his partner to just know what it is he’s going on about or feeling. More than half the time, he’s incredibly tense without letting on that work or sith things are bothering him. It’s obvious but he won’t talk about it, he doesn’t want to. As far as he’s concerned, there’s no reason to talk about it. 

Of course this leads into other issues. Since he’s unable to be open with his person, it can create a lot of tension between them and open up avenues for more issues. He’s definitely not the dream guy.

Ben tries. He tries so fucking hard to communicate but he also has no idea what he’s feeling half the time so that’s a challenge in itself. He does better when it comes to text though. Ben can be in the same room with his S/O and be texting them about his anxiety, depression, what have you and get it across far better than if he were speaking. 

Sometimes thoughts and feelings are easier to convey through text so no one he’s involved with should be surprised that this is happening. He tends to ramble and over explain too. But his communication skills will get better as he gets older and gains more experience in the matter. 

Are they more the type to have open, honest, constructive communication, do they only communicate through fights, do they communicate through sex? 

     Kylo communicates through fights. He waits until things have absolutely blown completely out of proportion and suddenly there’s four molehills turned into a mountain range and no one knows exactly what’s going on. They just know that he’s mad, his S/O is mad, and whoever else in the vicinity is mad too. 

But, even if he’s angry and frothing at the mouth, he’s still being as honest as he can be, even if it’s vicious. If he’s had even one thought that week that was negative, it’s going to come out. If he’s thought about strangling one or both of them or running his saber through his S/O, he’s saying it. The whole argument is a fucking event. 

As Ben, he’ll try to address things as they happen so it doesn’t turn out like that but he does still have a tendency to hoard smaller issues. He tries to brush them off as though they don’t bother him but they’ll come up later on in an argument about something else. It may not be the same type of blow out but there’s a smaller scale. He’s not actively trying to hurt anyone and he’s willing to express that. It doesn’t make it healthy though. 

Level Six

What do they think of marriage? is it a goal to be worked toward, or something they shy away from? If they’re for it, have they spend significant time thinking about it? If they’re against it, are they open to alternatives or is long term commitment something they typically prefer to avoid?

     Marriage isn’t something that Kylo / Ben strives for. It’s something that he’s never bothered to think about more than a few seconds because it requires a lot more commitment than he believes is worth it. He’s aware that many marriages work well and some go off without any issues! However, he doesn’t think that he’s the type to enjoy it. 

Over all, he sees marriage as a ‘happy ending.’ After everything that he’s done to the galaxy, he doesn’t believe that he deserves one. Why should he have the right to be happy when so many others aren’t or can’t be? So he leaves that laying in the ground and tries to forget it. Why should he even bother getting any form of government involved if he decides to be with someone anyway? 

Even in that, he does see that his parents’ marriage failed. Ben blames himself for that and thinks that if he’d been able to keep from going to Snoke, his parents would have been fine. At the same time, he doesn’t know what else led to their decision on ending their marriage, for all he knows he could have been the final straw.

He also believes that marriage means that there’s a near mandatory need for children. Ben doesn’t have this urge. This doesn’t mean that he won’t be kind or gentle to children (Kylo’s another story) but he doesn’t think that having his own is for him. What kid would want to grow up and then learn their father was Kylo Ren, their great grandfather was Darth Vader, and the only Jedi in the family (aside from Leia) died because of their father. It’s not the kind of track record any future children need to deal with, in his opinion. He saw how it messed him up and he can’t imagine how it would hurt them. 

All in the same breath, he’s well aware that there’s the good as well. His mother was a Senator, princess, and acted in two rebellions. His father was a famous smuggler and a damn good pilot. His uncle a Jedi. His grandmother a queen and senator. But would any child ever deserve him as their father? Nope, at least not in his eyes. 

Ben is heavily reserved on marriage, to the point that he doesn’t know if he’d even entertain the topic as a piece of conversation.